The Procrustean Bed
by gemini13me
Summary: A Procrustean Bed- a standard or set of conditions, determined arbitrarily, to which everyone is forced to conform. But the question is... are there really any rules when it comes to the affairs of the heart?
1. Prologue

**Edward Pov**

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

_**A Procrustean Bed****-** a standard or set of conditions, determined arbitrarily, to which everyone is forced to conform. _

_But the question is... are there really any rules when it comes to the affairs of the heart?  
><em>

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><p>I sat at the dining table surrounded by my family and took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a split second. The atmosphere was so tense, and the room was so eerily quiet, you could literally hear the proverbial pin drop.<p>

My older brother's head was lowered, his eyes trained on the pristine white tablecloth, and his large hands folded neatly in front of him. Next to him, his wife's perfectly plucked right eyebrow was arched in a defiant manner, her scarlet, lipstick-coated, plump lips set into a straight line as her freezing, ice blue glare pinned me to my chair.

I let my gaze travel towards my younger brother, seeking for support. To my relief, I was not met with disapproval. On the contrary. Even though his face showed no sign of emotion, the mischievous, impish twinkle in his eyes let me know he was taking the news much better than the rest of the family. _He_ was actually happy for me. His girlfriend was smiling hugely for some reason, and I found myself responding with a shy smile of my own.

That's until I met my mother's fierce, dark stare. There was so much hostility and anger directed at the woman sitting next to me that I actually felt my heart start to beat faster in my chest.

I reached under the table and took her delicate hand in mine, linking our fingers together. Her entire body was trembling, and I knew her well enough to realize she was on the verge of crying. I wanted to rush to my feet, scoop her up into my arms protectively and leave this goddamn house. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her. I wanted to assure her that nothing and no one was going to stand in the way of our happiness. I wanted to promise her a better, brighter future.

I did none of that. I just sat there and allowed these people who rightfully called themselves blood of my blood to ridicule her. And it made me realize... I was acting even worse and more disgraceful than all of them combined.

_How did I get here?_

_How did _we_ get here?_

These were the two questions relentlessly plaguing my mind.

Finally, I let myself look at my father; the man who had always been there for me since the very day I was born.

A single, short nod of his head spoke more than a thousand words.

He was still there for me.

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><p><strong>AN Sooo? What did you think?** **Please review and let me know whether I should continue or not.**

**xoxo**_  
><em>


	2. Chapter 1: Hurt

**A/N I'm so so sorry for not being able to reply to your reviews, but FF won't let me for some reason...**

**Thank you for taking an interest in this new story.  
><strong>

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

**Edward Pov**

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><p><em> ~January 25th, 2011~<em>

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The ride back from the cemetery was quiet.

I was in the car with my mother and father while my two brothers and their other halves were taking their own separate cars. Dad glanced at me sideways, and I sighed heavily, turning my head to look out the window. It felt weird to be sitting in the passenger seat of my own car. I had insisted I could drive it myself, but Dad didn't even want to hear it. According to him, I was emotionally unstable, a very dangerous thing when combined with driving through Chicago's traffic.

Even though I was a bit irritated that he was treating me like a child, I knew he was right. He always was.

I had just lost my wife, the woman who I had practically lived with since my last day of college, ten years prior.

Over the last few months I had some time- not nearly enough- to cope with the fact that Tanya was soon going to die. Her doctor, my parents, her sister and even Tanya herself did their best to prepare me for what we all knew was coming next. The dreaded inevitable.

However, that didn't make it any easier. On the contrary.

The night my wife let out her last, staggered breath, I was so devastated, I couldn't even bring myself to get out of bed to call her parents. I lay next to her, angry tears spilling from my eyes, my trembling hand clutching her cold, stiff one in a vicious, desperate grip. I didn't want to let go. I couldn't.

Those last five agonizing hours of night I spent with her lifeless body until my mother found us, were the hardest of my life.

My head was resting on her silent chest, our hands still joined.

My tears had dried on my cheeks as my blank gaze remained trained on the engagement and wedding rings on her slim finger.

Time seemed to have stopped around us.

My mother's sharp gasp was what broke me out of the trance I had fallen in. From that moment on, everything happened in a blur. The next thing I knew, the house started filling with people and I was being pulled away from my wife's quiet form.

In a haze, I walked out of the master bedroom- our bedroom- and locked myself in the small half-bathroom on the third floor. I collapsed on the hard tile floor and cried until there were no more tears left.

We might have had our differences, especially in the past year and a half, but to me Tanya was still the woman who had showed me what love really was.

I had always been the kind of man who used perfectly valid excuses for pushing people away, for running in the other direction when it came to love and for keeping myself locked behind an emotional fortress that no one was allowed to penetrate.

When Tanya had appeared into my life, all of those excuses seemed to suddenly vanish into thin air. With a lot of determination and a stubbornness that topped even mine, she had managed to shatter the wall I'd build between me and my emotions. To me, a cocky, smart-ass, senior student in law school, this new, alien experience had been mind-blowing. She was the most beautiful, fierce, passionate, incredible woman I had ever met, and I fell for her instantly. I fell so hard that only six months into our relationship I asked her to move in with me.

The rest... well, the rest is history. We got engaged, moved into a larger house, we both began working our dream jobs and finally got married. All that was missing were the two point five kids. For some unknown reason to me, the Universe had not blessed us with children. For years we had tried every modern method possible, but to no avail.

Eventually Tanya became depressed, and that's when our problems began. We started fighting, she closed into herself, I became irascible, and the life we had build together during the years started to fall apart in front of our very own eyes. Then she became sick, and I was certain God must really hate me in order to punish me in such a cruel way. I had never felt like more of a pawn on the Divinity's chess table as I did then. Everything in my life was spinning out of control, and I had no decision or say in it.

We passed a Starbucks, one of Tanya's favorite places to be, and I had to close my eyes as a wave of nausea overcame me. I felt the bile rise in my throat, and the overwhelming urge to throw up shook my entire being. I covered my mouth with my hand and inhaled sharply, forcing myself to calm down.

"Are you okay, darling?" Mom asked in her saccharine sweet tone that only veiled her growing anxiety and worry. Her hand reached between the front two seats to rub my back gently.

I nodded stiffly and saw my father throw me a pained, saddened glance.

I was still trying very hard to process what had happened. Did Tanya actually die? Had she really left me on my own? None of it seemed real. It was like every fear I'd ever had morphed into some sadistic, terrifying nightmare inflicted upon me by the devil himself.

God... the devil... someone up there was clearly bent on ruining me.

How was I supposed to go on without her by my side?

She had left me completely and utterly alone; the emptiness now residing in my heart, my sole companion for the difficult journey ahead of me called life.

Without her I felt lost, and I wondered if I was ever going to find myself.

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><p><strong>AN Next, Bella's Pov.**

**The rest of the chapters are going to be much longer than this one, I promise.  
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	3. Chapter 2: Intrigued

**Chapter 2**

**Isabella Pov**

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><p><em>~September 13th, 2011~<em>

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"Ang! Have you seen my jean jacket?" I yelled, tossing clothes over my shoulder and onto the floor.

There was no answer. Frustrated, I slammed shut the door to the closet and stomped into the living room where Angela was having a bowl of cereal, her eyes glued to the TV.

"Ang!" I called again, and her confused gaze snapped to me.

"Huh? What did you say?"

"My jean jacket, have you seen it?"

"Uh... no."

I sighed heavily. "I can't find it anywhere. Where the hell did I put it?"

She rolled her eyes at me, jabbing her spoon in my direction in a passive-aggressive manner. "Bella, this apartment is the size of a matchbox. How could you have lost it?"

I ignored her comment and headed into the bathroom. Almost immediately, I spotted my "lost" jacket lying on top of my laundry hamper. I briefly wondered how it got there, but knowing me and how distracted I usually was, I probably just threw it there without even realizing.

"Okay, I found it," I said, mostly to myself, pulling it over the mid-thigh cream floral dress I was wearing. Putting on my brown leather boots and grabbing my school bag, I headed for the door. "I'm leaving for class," I announced over my shoulder loudly enough for Angela to hear me.

"We're still on for tonight?" she called, then suddenly appeared in the living room's entrance. She was wearing pajama shorts and a wife beater, her hair pulled up in a messy bun.

I nodded distractedly, grabbing my keys from the hanger. "Yeah. Pizza and a movie."

"Right." She smiled. "Have a good day."

"You too."

I stepped into the chilly Chicago autumn air and took a deep breath. Even though it hadn't started out as one, I had a feeling it was going to be a good day. I smiled to myself and started walking with an extra spring in my step towards the bus station.

My stomach gave a low rumbling, and I realized I hadn't eaten anything for breakfast. Just a few feet away was a Starbucks, and I stopped in my tracks, contemplating for a moment. I hadn't gotten my paycheck yet, but I said to hell with it. It was my birthday, and I deserved to treat myself with whatever my heart -or stomach in this case- desired. Well within reason, of course.

With new found determination, I opened the door and stepped inside, inhaling the amazing hunger-inducing aromas greedily. However, my good mood was a bit thrown off balance when I saw the huge line ahead of me. I grumbled a bit under my breath and took my place at the end of the line, set on getting my coffee and bagel.

I was meditating about a test I had that morning, my eyes roaming aimlessly around the shop, when the door opened and a new customer made an appearance. My gaze was drawn involuntary in that direction. A tall, broad-shouldered man, wearing what looked like a very expensive black suit stepped in. He frowned deeply, taking in his surroundings like there was something bothering him about the place.

Finally, he came to stand behind me, and I turned around, staring in the opposite direction.

Merely seconds later there was a heavy, annoyed sigh coming from the man behind me, and I wondered what his problem was. No one likes to wait in lines, but hey, newsflash, that's what happens when you live in a busy city like Chicago.

Then there was fabric rustling, throat clearing, buttons being pressed and another sigh. Curious to see what he was doing, I turned to a forty-five degree angle, so that my profile was facing him. I crossed my arms over my chest, pretending to look out the window. From my peripheral, I could see that his head was bent and he was doing something with his phone. I lowered my eyes to the ground and saw a very nice pair of black, patent leather dress shoes.

His head suddenly snapped up, and I whirled around startled, turning my back to him.

Finally, it was my turn to place my order, and I greeted the smiling barista a small smile of my own. "Hey. Um, I'll have a tall Caffe Americano and an Asiago Bagel, please."

I paid, then grabbed my order and headed over to the nearby milk and sugar table.

"What can I get you?" I heard the barista ask the man who had been behind me.

"Uh... coffee," he answered in a deep voice. "Brewed coffee."

"Tall, grande, venti?" the barista asked automatically.

"Tall, I guess." His tone was laced with frustrated uncertainty, and I chuckled to myself quietly. He didn't seem like the type of person who often found himself in uncertain situations.

I took a sip of my espresso, and when I was satisfied with its taste, I grabbed my bagel and started walking out of the coffee shop. I was just passing Mr. Uncertainty when he spun around brusquely, causing me to crash right into his hard chest. My lidless cup of coffee flew out of my hand, and the entire content landed on his white button down shirt and black tie.

"Oh my God!" I squealed in horror, watching as dark drops trailed down his clothes and onto the floor. "I'm so sorry." My hand instinctively reached out to wipe at his tie in a frantic manner. He pulled back from me abruptly, and my eyes watered. "I'm so so sorry," I repeated in a timid voice.

I heard someone snicker at a table close to us, but I couldn't have cared less. Jerk!

The man's expression was absolutely murderous. He was seething with anger, but the immense effort he was doing to push it back was visible. "It's okay," he answered tightly. "I hated the damn shirt anyway."

"I'm sorry," I said again, on the verge of crying.

"I said it's okay," he snapped, seeming even more annoyed with my repeated apology.

"I think I have some wet wipes in my bag..." I started saying, my hands shaking as I dug into said bag.

"No," he cut me off sharply, his voice glacial. "What's the point? The shirt is ruined."

"I'll buy you a new one," I blurted out, clearly not thinking.

The man snorted rudely. He gave me a criticizing once over before grabbing his coffee and storming out of the shop.

Once outside, I furiously disposed of my bagel in the nearest trashcan. Angry tears threatened to spill, and I wiped at my eyes with my jacket's sleeve.

I seemed that I had been wrong, after all. This was definitely going to be a bad day.

_~~ 0 ~~_

"I'm home!" I called as soon as I unlocked the door to our apartment that same evening. I tossed my boots to the side carelessly and headed over to the kitchen. I was dog-tired, grumpy, and on top of that, I was extremely hungry.

Angela was perched up on the counter, sipping on a glass of orange juice. "Hey," she greeted, taking in the humongous frown I had been wearing since that early morning. "I'm scared to ask how your day was."

"Horrible," I answered nonetheless, taking the glass from her and drinking what was left of the juice.

She chuckled lowly. "That bad, huh?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

I sighed. "Besides the fact that I spilled burning hot espresso on a guy's shirt?"

"Yeah." She grinned, then her grin morphed into a straight line. "Wait, what? What guy?"

"I don't know." I shrugged, opening the fridge and grabbing the bottle of white wine Angela had bought especially for my birthday. "A guy." I uncorked it and poured myself a glass, chugging it down with gusto.

"Where were you?" Angela asked, my little anecdote seeming to have piqued her interest.

"Starbucks."

"So... was he handsome? Did he get your number?" she asked excitedly, waggling her eyebrows at me suggestively.

I rolled my eyes at her. "Angela, I soaked his shirt in coffee. His very expensive shirt, I might add."

"Eh." She waved me off like it was nothing. "So, you didn't get yourself a date."

"No."

She actually looked disappointed. "Too bad. You need to get laid."

"Ha ha," I said dryly. "Look who's talking. When was the last time _you_ had sex?"

"Well..." She tapped her chin as if she was contemplating. "Three months ago."

"With whom?" I asked, feigning ignorance, because I already knew the answer to my own question.

"That guy, Ben," she said it like he was just an ordinary guy.

_Pffft_. As if they hadn't been in a relationship for four years before they broke up. Sometimes Angela's coldness towards the poor guy amazed even me. He was trying to win her back like crazy, but she didn't even want to speak to him. She was acting like he had never been an important part of her life. Not to mention that as childhood friends, the three of us had grown up together. I felt really bad for Ben, but unfortunately there was nothing I could do to help him. Angela was more stubborn than a mule, and when she set her mind on something, she wasn't easy to steer in a different direction. My persuasive tactics had no effect on her whatsoever.

"Oh, the nice guy who's absolutely crazy about you," I replied, smirking.

"End of subject," she snapped, her tone warning me. She didn't want to talk about him. As always. "We were talking about you. When did you last have sex? Be honest."

I shrugged, trying to hide the blush that was starting to creep in behind my hair. "A year ago," I confessed after a minute.

"See?" she yelled triumphantly. "You're in desperate need of cock."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Oh my God, Angela. Don't be crass."

"Don't be a prude," she challenged, nudging me playfully. "So yeah... if you ever see that guy again, offer to buy him coffee. You know... to make up to him for the ruined shirt."

I laughed heartily. "Yeah, right. Don't be silly. I'm never going to see him again."

"Whatever. Anywaaaay," she sang, grinning like a fool. She ran out of the kitchen and was back in under ten seconds with a gift bag. "Happy birthday, baby." She thrust the bag in my face eagerly, and I had to laugh at her childish excitement.

"Oh, Ang... you shouldn't have," I said sincerely, and she waved me off.

"Nonsense. Open it," she urged.

Inside was a pale yellow scarf with green fringes. I pulled it out, immediately noticing the way my fingers sank into the soft fabric. "It's beautiful. Thank you, but you really shouldn't have. I appreciate it, don't get me wrong, but it must have cost a fortune."

"Would you shut up already? It's a gift. Just accept it," she admonished, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling at me.

"You're right," I said. "I'm sorry. I just don't want you spending money you don't have on me."

"You're still talking." She gave me a pointed look, and I chuckled. Taking a few steps I engulfed her into a bear hug.

"I love you, Ang," I chocked out. "You're the closest thing I have to a sister."

"You're strangling me," she replied in a tight voice, and I pulled back quickly.

"Sorry."

"Oh, don't cry, silly," she breathed taking in my expression. "I love you, too, you know that." With that she embraced me again, and we stayed like that until I was ready to let go.

Later that evening, we had pizza as planned. We coupled it with a bottle of wine and a chick flick, and my mood improved significantly. It was not the best birthday I've ever had, but it was a nice, fun, relaxing evening spent in good company, and that was what I needed.

_~~ 0 ~~_

Friday afternoon, I was sauntering my way over to work, enjoying the unusually warm day. The sun was shining brightly in the sky, and I had to reach over in my bag for my sunglasses. I perched them upon my nose and continued my promenade through Chicago's streets.

It was just past three when I made it through the door at _The Oriental_, a small bookstore owned by my aunt Kate. She was lounging on one of the orange tangier sofas, reading. Her brown eyes rose lazily to take me in, then lowered back to the astrology book in her hand. Soft, oriental music was coming from the speakers, the familiar, comforting scent of paper mixed with sandalwood assaulting my nostrils.

"Hey," I greeted cheerily.

She glanced at the watch attached to her wrist. "You're late."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Yeah, three minutes late."

"I'm starving," she complained, getting up to grab her wallet.

"Well, why didn't you eat? Didn't you take a lunch break today?"

"No," she huffed, starting to wrap her turquoise, knitted shawl around her. "I didn't have the time. It was a slow morning, but just as I was about to leave for lunch, the customers started pouring in."

"Now you can go. I'm here. And you might want to leave that here," I said pointing towards her shawl. "It's hot outside."

She shrugged, not bothering to take my advice into consideration. "Do you want me to bring you something?"

I waved her off. "Nah, I'm fine. I had a sandwich on my way from school."

"Alright. I'm out of here. See you in half an hour." Her long white skirt fluttered from the mild wind as she stepped outside and closed the door behind her.

I got behind the sales counter and sat in my favorite antique leather armchair. I took out my bottle of Diet Coke from my bag and sipped on it before leaning against the back of the armchair with my feet curled underneath me. I grabbed my book from under the counter where I had left it the day before and started reading.

It was a good twenty minutes or so until the bell attached to the door let me know my first customer of the day had arrived.

"Hello," a masculine, somewhat familiar voice spoke from the other side of the counter.

I licked my forefinger, turned the page and folded the top corner neatly. I shut the book and looked up, almost having a heart attack as I did so. There, looking impressively imposing, stood the man from Starbucks. This time he was wearing thick-rimmed glasses, but I could recognize those piercing eyes anywhere. Those forest-green eyes...

_God, how did I not notice he has such gorgeous eyes the first time? Oh, yeah, that's right. I was too busy feeling embarrassed.  
><em>

His reddish hair was neatly styled on top of his head as it seemed that he had recently gotten a haircut. Just like the last time I've seen him -or the first- he was wearing a black suit with a black tie. The only thing that was different was his shirt, which was now a pale blue.

I was staring at him so intensely that I almost didn't notice the deep frown he was sporting.

_Jeez... is he always so grumpy?_

"Do I know you?" he asked, and I jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Um... y-yeah. S-sort of," I stammered, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. "I... uh... I spilled coffee on you on Tuesday."

"Ah." His right eyebrow arched, his expression becoming grim. "Yes, now I remember."

My heart was beating so fast in my chest, I felt like I couldn't even breath properly. "C-can I help you with something?" I managed to squeak out, biting on the inside of my lower lip so hard, I was sure I was going to draw blood.

"Yes," he said after analyzing me for a moment. "I need a book."

_Duh... obviously. This is a bookstore._

"Okay..." I said slowly, staring at him like I was in a trance. I don't even remember blinking. "What book?"

He sighed, burying his hands into his pants' pockets. "I don't know."

"You don't know," I repeated, and I saw his jaw clench.

"Yes," he said irritated. "It's not for me."

"Okay..." I trailed off, still not taking my eyes off him.

"It's for my niece," he explained, glancing around the store and taking in his surroundings. "She likes to read. So... can you help me with a suggestion?"

"Sure," I said, finally managing to pull myself together and bolt uptight. I got out from behind the counter and started walking. He followed. "How old is she?" I said over my shoulder, trying hard not to feel too self-conscious, but failing miserably. I wondered if I was walking funny. I sure as hell was feeling extremely uncomfortable, like someone had stuck a stick up my ass. I could bet I looked ridiculous with the effort I was doing to walk confidently.

"Thirteen," he answered after a long minute.

"Do you know what genre she likes?" I tugged nervously at the seem of my sleeve, my back still to him as I passed the small "reading area", destined to clients who wanted to browse through certain books they were interested in buying.

"Well, fantasy in general."

I nodded to myself, heading over to the fantasy section and starting to scan the shelves. "Okay, um... how about _Tunnels_? It's a great book." I pulled it out with slightly trembling hands, showing it to him.

_Gah, keep it together, Bella! He's just a client._

"No," he said firmly, not even bothering to avert his intense gaze from my face. "She has that one already."

_Okay..._

I turned around, and without even realizing, started chewing on my thumb like I always did when I was extremely nervous. I spotted a thick book with a blue cover and held it up.

"_Eragon_?"

His eyes narrowed as he regarded the book, then he shook his head. "She has that one, too."

"Um," I browsed through a few more books rapidly._ "The Golden Compass_?"

"No."

I sighed, starting to get a bit annoyed, then made a random choice. "How about _Eye of the Wizard_?"

"Is it any good?" he asked, taking it from me to study it briefly.

I shrugged, trying hard not to stare at him. "I haven't read this one, but you could give it a try. I don't think it's too gory or anything."

To my amazement, he let out a low chuckle. "She likes gory... much to her mother's exasperation. I'll take this one."

"Okay." I nodded, making my way to the cash register. I put the book in one of the bag's with the bookstore's logo and handed it to him. "That'll be seven dollars."

"That cheap?" he murmured in surprise, reaching for his wallet and pulling out a ten dollar bill.

"Yeah." I took the money and gave him his change, along with the receipt. His fingers brushed against mine, and I yanked my hand back as if I had just been electrocuted.

"Alright," he said as he shoved the money into one of his pants' pockets carelessly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I breathed, smiling goofily. He didn't spare me another glance as he spun around and headed towards the exit with large deliberate steps. "Please come back again," I stupidly added, obviously too loud, because he heard me even from where he was at the door.

"What was that?" He turned to look at me expectantly.

I blushed furiously. "Uh... Nothing."

He gave me a strange, dubious look before turning on his heel sharply and leaving. Seconds later, Kate burst through the door.

"Who was that?" she demanded, going straight to the window to peer from behind the blinds.

"A guy," I stated, still not fully recovered from the shock of having him there, at my workplace. It all had happened so fast, I wasn't sure it had been real.

Kate rolled her eyes at me as she tossed her bag on the counter in front of me. "I noticed that."

"Oh. He was just a client."

She sized me up suspiciously, taking in my still flustered, dreamy expression. "Since when do we have obnoxiously rich, limousine-riding, Gucci-wearing clients?"

"Huh?" I said intelligently, not very capable of focusing on the conversation we were having.

"Well, he was wearing a Gucci suit, even _I_ know that. I too read magazines, you know. And he just climbed in the backseat of a silver Mercedes."

"Limousine?" I asked confused, glancing over at her.

She shrugged. "Well, not exactly, but he had a driver, so..."

"Huh."

"He sure was good-looking," Kate added after a moment of complete silence. "He also looked to be my age, so who knows. Maybe next time he comes here- if he does come back- I'll make a pass at him." She winked at me conspiratorially, letting out an amused laugh.

"Yeah," I agreed distractedly, letting out a sigh. "He's gorgeous."

Her eyes landed on the book I had been reading earlier, and she picked it up to examine it closely. "What are you reading today?"

I shrugged, my gaze darting towards the window. "Anne Rice."

She groaned softly. "Vampires? Again? Really? Just last week you were reading that book with that vegetarian vampire guy who's glowing in the sunlight. What's up with you and vampires lately? What's next? Watching True Blood? I have to tell you..."

She continued rambling and gesturing wildly with her hands, but I ignored her. Getting up as if I were transfixed, I headed over to the window and looked outside. The street was pothering with cars while the sidewalk was packed with pedestrians rushing over to their destination.

There was no trace of silver Mercedes whatsoever.

Suddenly, a vision of him rushing back into the store came into my mind. He would be flustered from running, a small bead of sweat trickling down his temple, his breathing labored. He would sauntered his way over to where I was standing and give me a smile. A real smile. Then he would offer to buy me dinner as a thank you for helping him pick out a book for his niece.

I snorted at my inner-self unceremoniously. _Yeah, right. Apt imagery, Bella. Apparently you forgot one tiny detail. The man hates you for the incident that happened in Starbucks. He's not going to invite you to dinner. Stop daydreaming!_

_Plus... he's old. Well, not old, old, but older than you..._

_But he's so handsome...  
><em>

"Bella!"

I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of Kate's sharp voice.

"Huh? What?" I whirled around wide-eyed.

"Did you even hear a word of what I said?" she admonished in a parental tone.

I smiled sheepishly, and she shook her head disapprovingly. "Come on. Get to work. We need to organize those books we got yesterday."

I nodded compliantly and walked away from the window, not before throwing it one last longing glance._  
><em>

_ Will I ever see him again?_

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><p><strong>AN Okay, they've met. Now it's time to finish _Her Enigma_ :D**

**If you're curious about Bella's outfit, you can find it on my profile.  
><strong>

**Again, I'm sorry for not being able to reply to your reviews, but FF simply won't let me. Does anyone else have this problem or is it just me?  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 3: Lenient

**A/N Okay, so I forgot to specify how big the age difference between Edward and Bella is. Edward is 34 and Bella is 22, so the age difference is 12 years. Bella said in the last chapter that Edward was old... well, she was just rambling... he's not old... he just _older_ than her. Also, I replied to your reviews saying that 34 minus 22 equals 10... I know... *facepalm* I just get so damn distracted sometimes (comes with the zodiac sign... lol)  
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**Anyway, I hope this sets your minds at ease :) He's not fifty, or anything. **

**Also, for future references...**

**Kate- 36**

**Emmett and Rosalie- 37**

**Jasper- 29**

**Alice- 26**

**Angela- 22**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

**Edward Pov**

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><p><em>~September 16th, 2011~<em>

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_~~0~~_

Friday afternoon my brother Emmett and I left from work a bit earlier than usual. My car was still in the auto shop, and I caught a ride with him since we were both going to his place. I hadn't seen my niece for almost a month, and I missed her terribly. So, when his wife Rosalie called to invite me to dinner, I gladly accepted.

We both climbed in the back of his silver Mercedes, and Harry, his driver, greeted us politely. Emmett was on the phone with a client, and I leaned back in my seat, turning my attention to the window.

We were just a few blocks away from the office, when I spotted a bookstore, and my niece's image came to mind. I knew how much she enjoyed reading, and since I hadn't paid her a visit for quite a while, it only seemed fair that I didn't present myself bare-handed.

In the spur of the moment I said to Emmett's driver, "Harry, can you stop here for a minute, please?"

"Certainly, sir," he replied, glancing at me in the rear view mirror before pulling to the right and killing the engine.

"Thank you." I opened the door and stepped out, Emmett's confused voice following after me.

"Where are you going?"

Leaning down I saw that he had his hand covering his cell phone as he looked at me expectantly.

"That bookstore over there," I answered, gesturing over my shoulder. "I won't be long."

I shut the door and jogged my way across the sidewalk until I was standing in front of a narrow glass door that had an imprinted logo saying _The Oriental._ Usually I shopped for books at _Barnes&Noble_, but apparently not today. I stepped inside, and my arrival caused a small bell attached to the door to jingle loudly, alerting the clerk behind the counter of my presence. Surprisingly, she didn't look up from the book she was reading, so I made my way over to her. I stood looking down at her for a moment, irritated with the fact that she was deliberately ignoring me, before speaking.

"Hello," I said, my voice coming out a little more gruff than I had intended.

With slow, lazy movements she licked her finger, folded a corner of the page she was on, and finally raised her eyes to meet mine. I frowned, realizing that she looked familiar. I thought hard, trying to remember where I had seen her before.

She was young, maybe in her early twenties with chocolate brown hair that came to the middle of her back, pale skin, thick lips and large brown eyes. She was extremely... _average-looking,_ but there was something about her that gave me the impression this was not the first time I had met her.

I noticed she was gaping at me, shock mixed with something akin to excitement written all over her face. I opened my mouth and simply asked her, "Do I know you?"

She flinched and blushed furiously, acting like I had asked her if she committed murder. "Um... y-yeah. S-sort of," she stuttered nervously. "I... uh... I spilled coffee on you on Tuesday."

The scene from Starbucks came to my mind, and I realized why she was so on edge.

"Ah. Yes, now I remember."

I clenched my teeth and bit my tongue to refrain myself from saying something rude. I was a pretty blunt person and usually didn't hesitate to give people a piece of my mind. However, I knew it hadn't been solely her fault. If I hadn't turned around so brusquely, none of it would had happened.

Not that I cared too much about the shirt I had been wearing that day, but having to go back home to change really made my day ten time worse than it had begun.

"C-can I help you with something?" she asked, biting on her lip hard.

I studied her face, trying to guess what she was thinking of our encounter. Was she scared of me? _God, I hope not. _I was aware of the fact that I could sometimes be a jackass, but it hadn't been my intention to traumatize the poor girl.

"Yes. I need a book."

"Okay..." she said softly, not tearing her wide, fearful eyes from me. "What book?"

I sighed, shoving my hand into my pant's pockets in an attempt to look more casual and less frightening. "I don't know."

"You don't know," she reiterated, and my jaw set in aggravation. I was doing my best to keep my temper on a leash, but the fact that I was already in a bad mood didn't help at all.

"Yes. It's not for me."

"Okay..." She was looking at me with a confused expression, clearly wondering what the hell I wanted from her.

I sighed, glancing around the store. It was actually very nice. Very homey. "It's for my niece. She likes to read. So... can you help me with a suggestion?"

"Sure," she said after a hesitant pause, getting up from her seat. I walked behind her, noticing for the first time that she was of petite stature. In fact, she was so much shorter than me I could bet that if she stood directly in front of me her eyes would be at the same level with my pectorals.

An errant thought about my preferences for tall women crossed my mind, but I brushed it off quickly. It was irrelevant, because I didn't plan on starting to date again too soon.

She asked me how old Jessica was and what books she liked to read before leading me to the fantasy section. After she showed me a few books which I turned down because they were already part of Jessica's collection, I finally settled on one called _Eye of the Wizard._

I paid for it and headed back to the car where Emmet was waiting for me.

_~~ 0 ~~_

It was around five when Harry pulled the car in the driveway, and we got out, heading for the front door. Emmett, still talking on the phone for the past hour or so, opened the door and stepped in. I followed after him and took off my suit jacket, hanging it in the foyer closet that I was already so familiarly with.

"Hi, Rosalie," I said when she came out of the kitchen with a glass of what looked like margarita in her hand. She was wearing a knee-length dress and high heels, her platinum blond hair pulled up into a classic bun. She smiled when she saw me, her heels clicking on the marble floor as she made her way towards me.

"Edward," she replied, kissing my cheek.

I kissed her back, then glanced around expectantly. "Where's my favorite niece?"

She chuckled, moving to her husband. "You mean your only niece?" she said, giving Emmett a peck on the lips. He wrapped an arm around her waist and a few seconds later, ended the call.

"Hey, baby," he murmured, kissing her back passionately.

She grinned at him. "Hey."

"So? Where is she?" I asked, my eyes bouncing between them as a a pang of envy sliced through my heart. I remembered when Tanya used to greet me that way when I came from work in the evening.

"In her room," Rosalie answered as she extracted herself from her husband's embrace. "Jess!" she called towards the stairs. "Uncle Eddie is here."

I groaned softly. She knew I hated to be called Eddie. The only person who I allowed to call me that was...

"Uncle Eddie!" my niece's piercing scream echoed through the house, followed by the sound of running feet. She practically flew down the stairs and threw herself into my eager arms, sending me a couple of steps backwards.

I laughed heartily, squeezing her to me. "Hey, beautiful. How are you?"

"I'm good." She beamed, pulling back. She blew some of her shoulder-length blond hair from her face, then eyed the bag in my hand curiously. "What did you bring me?"

"Guess." I winked at her, and she rolled her eyes playfully.

"A book?"

"Yes."

"Nice." She grinned, taking the bag from me and peering inside. "Are you staying for dinner, uncle Eddie?"

I shrugged, burying my hands into my pants' pockets. "I will if you want me to."

"Yeah." She hugged me again. "Of course I want you to."

"Don't I get a hug?" Emmett complained, frowning at us, his arms crossed over his chest.

Jessica snickered, walking over to him. "Hi, Daddy." She kissed his cheek, and he let his lips linger on her forehead as he rubbed her back affectionately with one hand.

"Hi," Emmett murmured back lowly, and just as he was about to say something else, his phone began ringing. He groaned in frustration, muttering under his breath, "What now?" As he glanced at the screen, his brow furrowed. "Excuse me," he said, letting go of his daughter and heading towards his study.

Jessica rolled her eyes again at her father's departing form. Rosalie headed back into the kitchen to see about dinner, and we walked into the living room, taking a seat next to each other on the couch.

"So, how's school?" I inquired, running my hand through her hair.

She shrugged, taking the book out from the bag and examining it. "Fine."

"Just fine?"

"Yeah." She sighed. "I got a B in geography today, so I'm not too happy about that."

"Really? What did you get a B for?"

"We had a pop quiz, and I couldn't remember which is Switzerland's capital."

"It's Bern."

She huffed. "Yeah, now I know. I don't think I'll ever forget it again."

We stayed in silence for a little while as she studied the book in her hand.

"Do you have a boyfriend yet?" I blurted out suddenly.

The night before I had seen a documentary about teenage pregnancies, and it had stuck in my mind. Of course, I knew Jessica was very intelligent and responsible and would never end up like those girls, but it never hurt to make sure she hadn't transited to that phase of her life yet. She was still so young, and I worried about her. I also knew it was her parents' job to worry about her, but I couldn't help myself. Because of the fact that I hadn't yet had the pleasure of fathering a child, all of my affection was directed towards her.

Jessica made a gagging face, but her cheeks betrayed her by coloring in a light pink shade. "Ewww. No!"

I chuckled, seeing right through her. "Good, good. Make sure you stay away from boys until at least twenty."

Her head snapped in my direction, her eyes wide. "Twenty? But why? Mom and Dad have been together since tenth grade."

"Yes," I agreed. "But right now you're too young to have a boyfriend."

Her gaze lowered to the ground, her fingers playing idly with the side of my dress pants. "So when can I have one?" she asked so quietly I could barely hear her.

I arched an eyebrow at her, even though she couldn't see me. "Is there someone you like at school?"

"No," she said quickly, her face now fully red.

I let out a low laugh. "Are you lying to me?"

"No."

"I think you are. Come on, tell me," I coaxed, kissing her temple. "Who is he?"

"No one," she mumbled, her nails scratching at my pants nervously.

"What's his name?" I insisted, mostly because she was so fun to toy with, but also because the thought of her having a boyfriend didn't sit well with me at all.

"Ugh!" she exclaimed exasperatedly, closing her eyes. "I don't like anyone. Boys are gross."

"Uh huh. Do I look like I was born yesterday?" I teased.

"What are you two talking about?" Rosalie's suspicious voice made both of us turn our heads in her direction. She was leaning against the door frame, her arms crossed underneath her breasts.

"Nothing," Jessica squeaked, hiding her flustered face behind her thick hair. "Nothing, right, uncle Eddie?" She turned to glare at me, and I had to stop myself from laughing. Only one blue eye was visible behind her blond hair curtain, which made her attempt at glaring pretty amusing.

"Right." I nodded, looking at Rosalie with the straightest face I could muster.

"Mmhmm," she murmured skeptically. "Come on, wash your hands. Dinner is ready."

Jessica jumped to her feet and walked ahead of me, and I had to quicken my pace to catch up to her. I put an arm around her shoulders and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I'm going to find out, sooner or later. Preferably sooner."

She gave me a murderous one-eyed look before pushing me away. This time I laughed loudly and pulled her back to me, ruffling her hair playfully.

_~~ 0 ~~_

Saturday evening I had dinner with my family as usual. My father being the head of the family sat at the head of the table with my mother at his right. Emmett and Rosalie sat next to her while I was occupying my usual seat opposite of them. Beside me, the seat that had been Tanya's in the past was now Jessica's.

We were all quiet, savoring the delicious food, until my mom decided to break the silence._  
><em>

"So, Edward, honey," she began in the sweetest voice she could muster, and I instantly knew that whatever was about to come from her mouth was going to piss me off.

"Yeah?" I answered, not raising my eyes from the food in front of me, pretending to concentrate on cutting my meat.

"You remember Lauren Mallory?"

There was a pregnant pause when I felt everyone's stares on me. Bringing the fork to my mouth, I chewed and swallowed before replying in my most bored tone.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Wouldn't you agree that she's a lovely young lady?"

I tensed, immediately realizing where she was going with this, but I decided to ignore the irritation that was starting to nag at me and keep my calm. Still not looking at her, I shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. "I guess."

"I was thinking maybe I should invite her over next Saturday. What do you think?"

"What do I think about what?" I answered dryly.

Mom chuckled, not seeming to notice that everyone at the table was doing their best look preoccupied by their food. "Inviting her over, of course."

"I don't care." My flat tone should have warned her that I wasn't in the mood for that kind of conversation, but again she seemed oblivious.

She sighed exaggeratedly. "Come on, Edward. She is young, beautiful, intelligent and comes from a very good family."

"And? What does this has to do with me?"

She clicked her tongue impatiently. "Don't play dumb. I really think you two would make a good match."

This time I looked at her as I replied. "Mother, I'm not interested in a relationship right now. Alright?"

She frowned deeply, not satisfied with my answer. "Edward, you are 34 years old. You have no wife, no children..."

"Stop right there," I cut her off hoarsely. She had crossed the line, and I was fucking furious. "I have no wife because my wife _died_. Seven months ago. Seven!" I yelled, outraged. "And you have the audacity to tell me I should date? You have the nerve to tell me my life is fucked up?"

She seemed taken aback by my outburst. "You're taking this the wrong way…"

"Am I?" I hissed through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to jump over the table and strangle her.

"Yes. I only want you to be happy."

"Bullshit!"

"Edward!" My father interfered, his voice authoritative. "Watch your tongue. This is your mother you're talking to."

I pushed my chair up and got up from the table, tossing my napkin carelessly, not bothering to care where it landed. "I'm going to step outside," I announced, whirling around and heading for the French doors. Once on the back patio, I walked over to a chair and sat down.

"Fuck," I swore under my breath, rubbing mt hands over my face roughly.

Not seconds later, the doors opened again and two small arms wrapped around me as an angelic voice whispered in my ear. "I'm sorry, uncle Eddie.'

"What are you sorry for, kiddo?" I asked, looking up at her.

She looked back at me with sad, watery eyes. "I'm sorry that aunt Tanya died."

_~~ 0 ~~_

It was Wednesday afternoon the next week.

I escorted Mr. Lopez to the elevator at a leisure pace as we exchanged a few more words about his case. He thanked me for my help before we shook hands and he got on the elevator. I turned on my heels and headed back to my office.

As I passed my assistant's desk I handed her some papers._  
><em>

"Please make me a copy of this," I said, my gaze involuntarily falling to her very revealing cleavage.

Victoria was a beautiful woman who was very conscious of her sex appeal. She was in her late twenties, had long, curly red hair and a pair of killer legs.

However, her way of dressing sometimes drove me insane, and not in the good way. The tops she wore were usually more revealing than necessary, and her dresses were too short or too tight; sometimes both.

I couldn't even remember how many times I had asked her to dress more appropriately. She would listen to my rambling about her clothes, nod her head in understanding, apologize and would try to wear more decent clothing. But, after a while, she would fall back into her old patterns.

It was downright maddening. If she wasn't so good at what she did, I would have fired her long ago.

"Yes, sir," she answered promptly, getting up.

I was about to make a comment on the blouse she was wearing when my phone started ringing. I pulled it out of my pocket and glanced down at it, seeing my niece's number flash on the screen.

"Yes?" I answered, a smile making its way to my face.

"Ello!" she yelled stridently on the other side of the line, and I had to momentarily put some distance between my ear and the phone.

"What was that?" I chuckled, heading inside my office and closing the door behind me.

"My immitation of a British accent."

"You sounded horrible," I confessed, sliding into my comfortable leather chair and propping my feet on the desk.

"Gee, thanks, uncle Eddie."

I chuckled again, leaning back into the chair. "So, is there a particular reason you're calling me, Jess?"

"Yep," she said merrily, popping the "p". "I want another book."

"And you want me to buy it for you?"

"Obvious," she said, and I could picture her rolling her eyes at me. "I like the books you buy me. Is there a sequel to the one you got me last week?"

"I don't know," I replied, ignoring my office phone that had started to ring. "You want me to go back and see if there's a sequel?"

"Yeah."

"And if there's not?"

She thought for a brief moment before answering. "Well, I don't know… buy me another one."

"Alright. I'll see what I can do about it."

"Okay, thanks."

"You're welcome."

_~~ 0 ~~_

That same afternoon after leaving work I stopped by the bookstore. I managed to squeeze my car in the small space between a van and a Honda and got out, heading inside.

Today, to my disappointment, instead of the girl from Friday there was another woman sitting behind the counter. The woman had blond hair that was pinned up in a ponytail and seemed to be reading a magazine. As I approached her, I saw that she was indeed browsing through_ a Harper's Bazaar, _an iPod lying next to her. I looked around searching for the girl, but she was nowhere to be seen._  
><em>

I cleared my throat and when my presence wasn't acknowledged, I put my hand on the counter and tapped my fingers impatiently. That got her attention, and she quickly removed the headset from her ears, her gaze lifting to meet mine.

What was it with this bookstore ignoring their customers?

"Hello," I said in greeting, trying to keep my voice light.

"Oh," she breathed weakly. Her eyes were wide as she looked up at me in what seemed like awe. However, she recovered quickly, her voice all business-like as she spoke. "Well, hello. What can I do for you?"

"I came here last Friday and there was a girl who gave me a book," I explained, but realized I had no idea what the girl's name was. Trying to be more explicit I added, "A brunette girl... petite... brown eyes..."

"You mean Bella?" she interrupted.

I nodded hesitantly. "I think so. Is she still working here?"

"Yes," she said, a knowing smirk making its way to her face. "She's in the back. I'll get her for you."

"Thank you," I replied as she got out from behind the counter and headed towards the back of the store. Burying my hands in my pants' pockets and leaning against the counter, I waited.

Not even a minute later, the woman came back with the girl trailing behind her.

"Hello," I said politely, staring her in the eyes.

Just like the last time, she seemed nervous as she fidgeted with the long sleeves of her bright red cardigan. "Uh... h-hi," she responded, her cheeks turning the color of said cardigan. "You need another book?" Her voice was small and tentative, her gaze fixed on my chest.

"Yes. Is there a sequel to the one you gave me?"

"I-I don't know," she stammered, biting on her lower lip. "Let me look."

Quickly, she turned on her heel and disappeared from sight. That left me alone with the blonde woman who was staring at me intently, like she was trying to figure out something about me. I ignored her and turned my head to gaze out the window at the passing pedestrians. When the girl came back a few minutes later, she looked even more flustered than before, if that was possible. "Um... I couldn't find anything. I'm sorry."

I sighed, displeased. "Can you recommend me something else then? My niece is an avid reader."

I saw her take a deep breath before answering with a smile. "Sure. Come with me."

I followed her to the same part of the bookstore where she had led me the first time. She stopped in front of the fantasy section and didn't need time to think before she reached up on her tiptoes and pulled out a book from the top shelve. "So, I couldn't help but notice this book the other day," she said as she turned to me with a sheepish smile. "I only got to read a few pages, but I think your niece would like it."

I took the book from her, examining the cover with interest._ "The Amulet of Samarkand?"_ I questioned, looking at her._  
><em>

"Yeah. Does she already have it?" There was a trace of disappointment in her expression which rapidly disappeared when I shook me head and gave her my answer.

"No, no. I don't think so. I'll take it."

"Okay then," she said cheerfully. I turned around, the book still in my hand, starting to go back to the cash register. "Um, sir?" she called behind me in a timid voice, and I stopped in my tracks.

"Yes?" I turned to her expectantly.

I saw her swallow before opening her mouth to speak again. "I'm really sorry for having spilled coffee on you that morning at Starbucks."

I waved her off. "It's okay. It's not that big of a deal."

"Well, I ruined your shirt," she stressed, her brow furrowed.

I rolled my eyes at her, which I think I hadn't done in years. "I wasn't being polite when I said I hated it. Don't worry about it. What's done is done. It was just an unfortunate incident. No hard feelings."

Her face lit up instantly, and she bit on her lip, but this time not because she was nervous. "Okay. I hope your niece enjoys the book."

"I hope so, too. If she does, I'm sure I'll be back pretty soon."_  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>AN These first chapters don't provide much information about either Edward or Bella, but as the story progresses you'll find out more about both of them. Also, as you can notice, Edward isn't very interested in Bella at this point in the story :)  
><strong>

**In other news, I'm having a bit of a trouble wrapping up _Her Enigma_, but I hope to be able to post the next chapter soon.**

**Thank you for reading!**


	5. Chapter 4: Confused

**I was going to post this chapter tomorrow, but since it's _still_ my birthday and I'm in exceptional mood, I thought what the hell.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

**Isabella Pov**

* * *

><p><em>~ October 8th, 2011 ~<em>

_~~0~~_

_~~0~~_

_~~0~~_

"So, what's our schedule for today?" Angela asked. She had her feet kicked up on the coffee table, a bowl of Cheerios in her lap. It was a quiet Saturday morning.

I looked up from my laptop with raised eyebrows. "_Our_ schedule?"

"Yes, _our_ schedule," she said pointedly.

"Well, I don't know about _yours_, but I do about mine. I have breakfast... do homework... have lunch... do some more homework, maybe even read a book... have dinner and then watch a movie."

She groaned, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at me. It hit me in the head. "I swear to God you're such a nerd sometimes."

"Gee, thanks Ang," I sneered, throwing the pillow back.

"I want to get out of the house today," she whined petulantly.

I sighed. "And go where? Do what?"

She brought the spoon to her mouth, chewed and swallowed before answering. "I don't know." Then after a moment she added, "How about we start running?"

My mouth fell open for a second. "Running like in the park?"

"Yeah." She grinned enthusiastically.

"No way." I shook my head firmly.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't like running. I'm fine with just walking, thank you very much."

I glanced back down at my laptop's screen, concentrating on reading my latest emails.

_I was not going running. Not in a million years. No way. Nu huh._

"You have a fat ass," Angela's comment came out of nowhere.

My eyes widened in horror and snapped up to meet hers. "What? !" I squeaked in a very girlish fashion.

"Yeah." She nodded solemnly. She leaned forward to place her empty bowl on the coffee table, then crossed her arms over her chest as she sized me up and down with criticizing eyes.

"You're just saying that so I'll go with you," I said defensively, but I wasn't so sure myself.

I almost ran to the full-fize mirror we had hanging in the hallway to make sure she was just messing with me.

She shrugged, the corner of her mouth lifting up in a smirk. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"Ugh!" I snapped my laptop shut with more force than necessary, tossing it next to me on the couch. "I hate you."

"I can see the cellulite all the way from here," she continued her verbal assault. "You want to know what caused it? Your sedentary lifestyle. Uh-huh. Keep that up and soon you'll end up on a surgery table with a guy sticking a cannula in your ass cheeks to vacuum all the fat. You know like in those plastic surgery shows where… "

"Okay fine!" I yelled, cutting her off and throwing my hands up in exasperation. "Jesus." The little troll could be extremely convincing when she wanted.

She grinned in a very self-satisfied manner. "So you'll go?"

"Yeah," I mumbled, glaring at her. "But I don't have anything to wear."

She rolled her eyes at me, waving me off. "All you need is a t-shirt, a hoodie, a pair of sneakers, and a pair of sweatpants or leggings or something. It's not rocket science."

"Okay, smart ass. But I need a pair of sweatpants. I threw mine away last week. They had holes in them."

"Oh, yeah," she remembered. "But I only have one pair, so you'll have to settle for leggings."

"I'm not wearing leggings," I said adamantly.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"You wanna bet?"

~~ 0 ~~

True to Angela's words, later that afternoon I was wearing black leggings paired with a black hoodie and my white Nike sneakers. We had been running in the park for about half an hour, and I was almost on the verge of passing out with exhaustion. Mentally, I was thanking all the gods ever known to human kind that we had taken Angela's car so we didn't have to walk back home. I didn't think I was going to make it otherwise.

"Oh God," I panted heavily, dragging my feet in a slow, tired jog. "I think my legs are going to give up on me."

"Stop whining and keep running," Angela called over her shoulder, already a hundred feet ahead of me.

I really think she enjoyed torturing me.

"I need to stop. Seriously," I said mostly to myself, because she was too far away to hear me now, and I couldn't even breathe properly, let alone yell after her.

I slowed my pace even more, preparing to just drop onto my butt on the hard asphalt and maybe even lose consciousness.

All of the sudden, I crashed right into a small body. One moment there was nothing in my path, and the next thing I know I had my arms wrapped around a little girl to prevent her from falling to the ground.

"Ow!" she protested, pulling away from me and rubbing at her forehead as she glared up at me. She seemed to be about thirteen or fourteen years old, had blond hair and a pair of intense blue eyes.

"Oh my God!" I said, panicked that I had hurt her. "I'm so sorry. Let me see." I gently pried her hand from her forehead to take a look. Fortunately, there was nothing to worry about.

"I'm okay," she mumbled, and I let out a sigh of relief which was short lived.

"You really have a bad habit of bumping into people," a deep voice said from behind me, and I spun around wide-eyed, my heart skipping a beat.

There, standing with his arms akimbo was the man from Starbucks. Well, one of his hands was akimbo while the other held a gigantic yellow cotton candy.

Dear God, he was tall. I mean, I had noticed that before, but today he seemed even taller than usual. I was like a leprechaun compared to him.

_Hah. Nice comparision, Bella. Infantile much?_

This time he wasn't wearing a suit. He was dressed in a pair of jeans, navy-blue suede loafers, a white polo shirt and a black military-inspired jacket with two sets of buttons. I could swear I had seen that jacket before in a magazine. I was almost sure it was Armani, and I didn't even want to remember what the price was. It must have cost the equivalent of my entire wardrobe. I mean, I was a girl and I liked clothes and stuff, but there was only so much I could afford from my modest salary.

He took a step closer to hand the girl the cotton candy and a whiff of cologne caught my nose. I almost passed out. He smelled so good it made me weak in the knees.

It was weird how I kept literally bumping into him wherever I went.

I looked up to his face and for the first time I noticed that he was frowning.

"I-I'm s-sorry?" I stuttered, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. I was already slightly red in the face from running. Add the embarrassment, and I could bet I looked like a tomato.

"It's okay," the girl answered for him. "I wasn't looking where I was going either. Who are you?" She said, examining me curiously.

He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on my leggings-clad legs for a brief moment.

_Is he actually checking me out?_

_Nah. He probably finds my outfit hideous or something. Or maybe he finds me hideous..._

"She's the nice girl who sent you all those books you liked," he responded, staring me in the eyes.

"Really?" the girl said excitedly.

"Yeah," I answered, smiling down at her, deducing she was his niece.

"Bella, what the hell?" Angela yelled from a few feet away, jogging towards us.

"Bella?" he said questioningly, his eyebrows arching.

"Yeah. Well, my name is Isabella, but friends call me Bella, Sir," I said quickly, realizing only too late I had addressed him as sir. But how was I supposed to address him? I didn't even know his name. "This is Angela." I gestured towards her when she approached us.

Angela nodded, giving him the once over, her breathing labored from the physical effort. "Hey."

He was staring at me, seeming amused by something. "I'm Edward," he finally said, and my stomach clenched at the sound of his name. It was a beautiful name, and it suited him perfectly. He put his arm around the girl's shoulders. "This is my niece, Jessica."

"It's... uh... nice to finally meet you," I said, forcing myself to tear my gaze away from him and look at Jessica.

"You too." She grinned widely, extending a hand for me to shake. "So, can I come by the bookstore you work at?"

"Of course," I agreed quickly. _Too quickly._

_Way to seem desperate, Bella, _I berated myself mentally.

"When can we go, Uncle Eddie?" She looked up at him with big pleading eyes.

"I don't know," he answered nonchalantly, pulling his arm back and burying his hands in his pants' pockets, taking what I had noticed to be his usual relaxed posture. "I'm pretty busy next week."

"Awww." She pouted, and his expression softened.

He sighed, lazily running his fingers through her shoulder-length hair. "How about I'll take you as soon as my schedule allows me? Hmm?"

The gesture made me smile. It was clear to me that he cared deeply about his niece. I couldn't help but wonder if he had kids of his own. If not, he would definitely make a great father.

Jessica beamed happily in agreement. "Okay."

"It was nice seeing you," he said, turning to me, then looking at Angela he nodded. "Nice meeting you."

"Are we leaving already?" Jessica complained, frowning at him.

"Yes, your mother is waiting for us."

She sighed, her shoulders sagging in defeat as she started to walk away. "Bye, Bella. See you soon."

"Yeah," I said distractedly, watching him. "Bye."

He gave me a smile then followed after his niece. "Have a good day."

I let my lusty gaze trail after him. Oh. My. God. His butt. His butt looked absolutely amazing in jeans.

"Who the hell was that?" Angela demanded as soon as he was far enough. "You're drooling."

I smiled sheepishly, starting to jog again. I suddenly felt reinvigorated. "Remember when I told you I soaked a guy's shirt in coffee at Starbucks?"

Angela joined me, our arms touching as we headed towards the park exit. "That is the guy?"

"Yeah."

"Sweet baby Jesus. He's hot."

"I know," I said dreamily. I couldn't feel any physical pain anymore. My body was light as a feather.

"So what are you waiting for?" she urged through heavy breaths.

"What do you mean?"

"Flirt with him, throw yourself at him, or better yet, just jump him. Trust me he won't mind. Just do something!"

I chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Okay, take a deep breath and calm the hell down. He's not interested."

"How do you know?" she challenged.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Maybe he's gay," she offered. "But then again, why was he checking you out?"

"He was?" I looked at her for confirmation. I thought it had only been my imagination playing tricks on me. Or I was delusional or something.

"Duh!" Angela exclaimed, nudging me with her elbow playfully.

I grinned hugely, but my elation died quickly. "Whatever. I'm not going to throw myself at him. You know it's not like me."

"You need sex," she stated dryly. "Badly."

"No, I don't," I argued stubbornly. If I had been able to survive without sex for a year, I was going to make it for a while longer. As the saying goes, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Right?

"Yes, you do."

I groaned, which was pretty difficult to do with my labored breathing. "You really like to contradict whatever I say, don't you?"

"Yes. Now, you think you can do a one night stand?"

My brow furrowed, and I turned my head to give her a nasty glare. "No. I want a relationship, not a pathetic one night stand."

Angela squinted at me in return. "Do you honestly think anything involving that man is pathetic?"

"Well, no, but..."

"I can bet you my life savings he's an animal in bed."

"What makes you think that?"

"Intuition," she said smugly, waggling her eyebrows.

I laughed to her face. "Your intuition sucks! Remember when based on your crappy intuition, you told me that Jake was going to be the love of my life?"

She rolled her eyes. "Jake's an asshole. And he was lousy in bed."

"No, he wasn't." I honestly had no idea why I felt the need to defend him. He wasn't a sex guru or anything, but sex with him had been pretty decent.

"You told me so yourself."

"I didn't say that. All I said was that he couldn't bring me to orgasm when we were doing it. He had to use other... techniques."

"You mean his tongue and fingers?"

"Yes. And sometimes the... um... vibrator," I whispered the last word as we passed an elderly couple holding hands.

"Oh my God." She stopped, leaning with her palms firmly planted on her thighs and started laughing. "I don't even want to imagine how small his dick was."

"Okay, why are we still talking about Jake?" I said annoyed, coming to stand next to her. "He's history."

"You're damn right he is," she replied, gazing up at me with mischievous eyes. "Anyway. So about this guy..."

"Drop it." I headed towards a water fountain, leaning down and swallowing a few mouthfuls. "Yeah, he's good looking. Yeah, I like him a lot, but I'm not going to just throw myself at him. He probably has a girlfriend or a wife already."

"I didn't see a wedding ring," she said, splashing some water on her face.

"Maybe he's just engaged," I pondered. "I really can't see a reason why a man like him would be single."

She sighed as we started walking at a leisure pace. "Yeah, you're right. He can't be single. Do you think he'd be willing to cheat on his girlfriend slash fiancee?"

"Angela!" I admonished, livid that she would suggest such a thing.

"I'm joking." She held her hands up defensively. "Maybe."

~~ 0 ~~

Later that evening, I was lying on the couch, blankly staring at the TV. As soon as we'd came back from the park, I had jumped in the shower to wash all the gross sweat from my body. After that, I had made us some sandwiches for dinner while Angela had lain on the floor lifelessly, still dressed in her workout clothes. Even if she didn't want to admit it, she was just as drained as I was. Now she was in the shower while I tried not to fall asleep at seven in the evening. My eyes kept closing under the weight of much needed sleep, but I fought against it.

The doorbell rang loudly, sobering me up instantly. I sat up with a groan and rubbed my palms over my tired face roughly before making my way into the dark hallway.

Opening the door, I was surprised to see Ben standing on the other side, his arms crossed over his chest and his head bowed as he seemed deep in thought. He looked up when he heard the door open.

"Oh," I said, slowly processing what was happening. "Hey, Ben."

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. "Hey. Is Ang home?"

I sighed, knowing what was about to come. "Yeah, she's in the shower."

"Can I come in?" he pleaded, looking at me with big hopeful eyes.

"I don't think this is a good idea," I replied softly, feeling bad for him. "She's in a foul mood."

"I just wanna talk to her. I miss her." His voice cracked as he said the last words, and my heart broke at the obvious emotional pain he was in.

I hesitated, not knowing what to do. Finally, I gave in.

"I know." I sighed again, this time in defeat. I just couldn't say no to him, especially when I knew how much he still loved her. "She's going to kill me in my sleep, but... come on in."

"Thanks," he murmured gratefully, squeezing my shoulder as he passed by me. He headed into the living room and sat down on the couch with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together.

"Can I get you a drink or anything?"

He nodded distractedly, and I walked into the kitchen to pour him a glass of Coke, returning to him shortly.

"Thanks, Bella," he said, taking the glass from me and chugging half of it down.

"You're welcome." I sat down next to him and pulled a pillow into my lap, starting to knead it nervously between my fingers. Angela was going to have a fit when she saw him there. "How's school?"

He shrugged. "Fine, I guess."

"Work?"

"Same."

He clearly wasn't in the mood for small talk tonight.

Just then, the door to the bathroom opened, and I heard Angela's footsteps as she made her way into the living room.

I cringed and closed my eyes, waiting for the usual screams.

"Bella, who was at the do..." her voice trailed off as her gaze landed on Ben. I looked up at her apologetically. She had a large towel wrapped around her and another smaller one holding her hair. "Get out," she gritted through clenched teeth, her expression hostile.

Ben jumped to his feet immediately. "Baby, please. Can we talk for a little while?"

"No," she snapped, gesturing towards the hallway. "Get out, Ben."

"Please," he begged as he took a step towards her, his voice starting to tremble. "I miss you so much."

Angela took a step back, the dangerous fire in her eyes burning him alive. "Get the fuck out."

"Ben..." I interfered, standing to place my hand on his shoulder. "Maybe some other time," I whispered close to his ear, knowing he didn't have a chance to speak to her tonight. If he insisted too much, she was going to detonate soon.

He shook his head and took another step forward, determined to have a long-denied conversation with her. "I promise I'll change, just... please hear me out."

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest stubbornly. "Get. Out."

They both stood imobile, staring at each other for what seemed like a long while. Angela's stoic expression held annoyance while his held something akin to despair.

Evetually, without another word, Ben hung his head in resignation and headed out of the room. I followed after him silently.

"I'm sorry," I said to him at the door.

Holding back tears, he turned around and started rushing down the stairs. I stood there watching his departing form, and when he was out of sight I closed the door, walking back into the living room.

Angela was sitting on the floor, her knees hugged to her chest and her face hidden into her left arm. She was crying so hard, her entire body was shaking violently. I rushed to her side and dropped to my knees next to her, wrapping my arms around her.

She cried the entire night.

~~ 0 ~~

"I'm leaving," Kate announced, grabbing her oversized bag from the counter. It was around four-thirty in the afternoon the next Thursday, and the eventless day was dragging along slowly. "Make sure you lock the door," she said pointedly, and I had to roll my eyes at her.

I had learned my lesson a year ago when I had forgotten to lock up the shop before leaving which had ended up staying unlocked an entire night. Fortunately for me, nothing happened, but Kate had thrown a tantrum to remember her by.

"Good luck on your date."

"Thanks." She smiled tentatively. "God, I hope he's not a creep or anything."

I simply shrugged, not knowing how to respond. She had met this guy through an online dating site, and this was the first time they were meeting in person. In the photo Kate had showed me he looked pretty decent, but you could never know what kind of twisted personality might be hiding behind the apparences.

"See you tomorrow."

"Alright," she sighed, turning on her heel and starting for the door. "Bye."

"Bye."

As usual, I pulled a school book from under the counter and a box of chocolates that had been there since the day before, and started occupying my time in a productive manner. Combining work with pleasure and all that.

Sometime later, I was reading a very interesting passage when the bell announced the arrival of a new customer. I sighed, not really in the mood to deal with anyone. Reluctantly, I closed the book and looked up, a gasp escaping my lips as I did so.

Edward and Jessica.

"Oh!" I exclaimed in surprise, a wide smile making its way to my face as I jumped from my seat. "Hello."

_Now this I can definitely deal with, _I thought to myself, nearly salivating when I saw Edward was back to wearing a suit.

Jessica ran to the counter, propping her elbows on it. "Hey, Bella!" she said excitedly, bouncing on her feet. She had on a pretty blue and white dress, coupled with white tights, blue ballet flats and a jean jacket.

"Hi, Jessica," I greeted warmly. "I'm glad to see you again."

She grinned, her ice blue eyes drawn to the box of chocolates. "You too."

"Isabella," Edward said in acknowledgement, nodding his head as he came to stand next to his niece.

"H-hi," I stuttered and flushed a little. I chidded myself mentally for the stupid reactions I had around him.

"Can I have one?" Jessica asked boldly, pointing to the chocolates.

"Jess!" he scolded her, his eyebrows furrowing.

"No, no, it's okay," I assured him, smiling at her sweetly. "Of course you can have one. As a matter of fact, you can have as many as you want."

"Thanks." She dug in with gusto and Edward shook his head disapprovingly.

"You were taught better manners than this."

"I really don't mind. Chocolate is the bane of us women. We simply can't resist it. Am I right, Jess?" I said, winking at her.

"Yeah," she agreed, picking another one up and popping it in her mouth.

"So, what can I help you with?" I asked, looking up at him.

God, he looked good. I'd never been so attracted to a guy in my life. And those suits he wore… I had never really noticed men wearing suits until I'd met him.

I wondered to myself how old he was. From what I could tell, he was around thirty.

Also, I was really curious about what he did for a living. It was plain as day that he had money. Lots of it.

"She wants to browse through the fantasy section herself."

"Okay. Sure. Come with me," I said, getting out from behind the counter. "You can bring the chocolate box if you want."

Jessica reached for the box eagerly, but Edward stopped her with a meaningful glare. "She's had enough."

She sighed exaggeratedly, turning around to follow after me.

"Knock yourself out," I said, when we were in the fantasy section, gesturing towards the shelves. She looked around briefly with excitement in her eyes, before heading towards the nearest shelve.

"I see you've changed the decor," Edward observed from behind me. I turned to face him and saw that he was taking in his surroundings curiously.

"Yeah. A bit. We wanted to make the reading area a bit more spacious. You want to take a seat while she looks around?" I offered.

He nodded, and I lead him to one of the comfy sofas.

"There's no need for you to stand," he said, patting the empty space next to him.

I took a deep breath, trying not to squee like a teenager with a crush at the fact that he had invited me to sit next to him.

"So, you go to the park often?" I attempted to distract myself from his intoxicating nearness by making small talk. His cologne invaded my nostrils, and my eyes nearly rolled to the back of my head.

His scent was simply out of this world. I could honestly say he smelled heavenly, and I didn't think I had ever before met a man who could drive me to the brink of insanity only by his simple presence.

"Every Saturday," he answered smoothly. "Both Jess and I like to take long walks. Do you run in the park often?"

"No," I admited, a little embarrassed. "It was actually my first time."

"Really?" He looked at me in surprise, his eyes quickly roaming over my form.

"Mmhmm," I murmured, flushing. "I'm not very passionate about sports or workouts or anything that involves physical effort for that matter."

The corners of his lips lifted in a small smile. "You don't have to be passionate about it, but working out improves your health significantly. Not only your health but also your state of mind."

"You workout a lot?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Two times a week. Sometimes more, depending on my free time." Involuntarily, I let my gaze linger on his chest for a little longer than would be apropriate. I heard him let out an amused chuckle, and my eyes snapped to his, my face coloring a deep shade of red. "What? Are you checking to see if I have big enough muscles?" he teased.

"No!" I squeaked, mortified that I had been caught ogling him. "I was just... I'm sorry."

"I was just messing with you," he assured me, leaning back into the sofa to adopt a more relaxed position. He lifted his right leg to rest his ankle on his left knee as his arms spread along the back of the sofa.

There were a few minutes of complete silence as both of us watched Jessica.

"So you go to the gym or you work out at home?" I continued, trying hard not to get back at staring at him.

"I go to the gym. I have a treadmill at home, but I rarely use it. It was my wif-" he stopped abruptly, his expression hardening.

"Your wife's?" I completed the sentence for him tentatively.

He was quiet for a long minute before answering. "Yeah," he murmured softly, his gaze trained on the wall in front of us.

_Oh._

So he was married?

Had been?

Was he divorced or something?

I wanted to know so badly, but I knew I couldn't ask him that.

All of the sudden, he got to his feet, walking to where his niece was crunched down, browsing through a heavy book. "Jess," he said, his voice completely changed. "Are you done?"

"No!" she protested.

"Well, hurry up," he urged, impatiently pacing the floor and checking his watch at the same time.

"But we just got here," I heard her whine just as my attention was distracted by my phone ringing loudly.

I got up and headed towards the counter where my bag was. "Excuse me," I murmured as I passed by Edward, and he moved out of my way, not even looking at me.

I dug in my bag for my phone, and when I found it I glanced at the screen to see Angela's name flash on the display. I brough it to my ear with a sigh. "Yeah, Ang?"

"Can you get some milk on your way home?" her voice sounded distant as if she had me on speaker.

"Sure. You're home already?"

"Yeah. I wasn't feeling so good, and I left work a bit early today."

"What's wrong?" I asked concerned.

"Nothing. Just some really bad menstrual cramps."

"Oh, okay. I'll get the milk."

Just as I was hanging up, I saw Edward and Jessica head towards me. He had his hands shoved into his pants' pockets, seeming distracted as she trailed behind him with a scowl on her pretty face and holding a thick book to her chest.

"You're leaving already?" I couldn't keep the disappointment from my voice.

"Yeah," Jessica sighed, handing me the book she wanted to purchase. "But I'll be back."

I nodded, biting on my lips and trying to avoid Edward's gaze. I felt bad for having mentioned his wife. It was obvious she was a sore subject for him.

"Thirty-seven dollars," I said mechanically, staring at my hands.

In my peripheral, I could see Edward pull out his wallet. He handed me a fifty-dollar bill, and I quickly cashed it, giving him back his change.

"Thank you for your help, Isabella," he said all business-like as he took the bag I was holding out for him. "Come on, Jess."

"See ya." Jessica waved, looking at me apologetically.

A weak 'bye' was all I could get out before the door was closing firmly behind them.

* * *

><p><strong>AN What the hell, Edward? Poor Bella just wanted to talk.**

**Reviews are appreciated :)**


	6. Chapter 5: Frustrated

**Chapter 5**

**Edward Pov**

* * *

><p><em>~ November 11th, 2011 ~<em>

_~~0~~_

_~~0~~_

_~~0~~_

"I need a favor."

I looked up to see Emmett standing in the doorway to my office, his arms crossed over his chest. He was wearing a navy blue suit and a tentative smile on his face.

"What?" I asked distractedly, motioning for him to step in.

He sighed, closed the door behind him and walked over to my desk. He sat down in front of me, kicking his legs up on my organized desk and disturbing a framed picture of me and my wife.

"A favor," he said again, glancing at the papers in my hand.

I frowned at him, reaching over to push his bulky legs away. "Okay."

He grinned. "Rosalie and I want to get away this weekend. You know…get out of the city and just… relax."

I put the papers down and leaned back into my chair, staring at him blankly. "And what does this has to do with me?"

"Can Jess stay with you while we're away?"

I blinked a couple of times, before speaking. "First of all… why isn't she going with you?"

He shrugged, then leaned towards me and said in a confidential tone, "I need some time alone with my wife, man." He paused briefly before adding, "Jess doesn't want to stay with Mom and Dad, because she says she gets bored at their house."

I nodded in understanding. "Yeah, sure. Of course she can stay with me."

"Thanks," he said, looking relieved. "Can you come pick her up tonight?"

"Sure. What time?"

"Whenever you can. She's eager to spend the weekend with you."

I smiled, looking forward to having some time alone with my niece. "Alright. I'll see you around eight."

He got up to leave, but suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and turned to me, grinning devilishly. "Have you seen your assistant's skirt today?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Or should I say belt? That piece of material definitely resembles more of a belt than an actual skirt."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I don't even want to comment on the subject. As soon as I get the chance, I'm replacing her."

He chuckled. "Well, _I, _for one,don't mind her oufits."

I snorted unceremoniously. "I'm sure you don't. Maybe she should be your assistant, not mine. Can we please swap assistants? I rather like Emma."

His expression scrunched at hearing his assistant's name. "Don't even mention Emma to me. If Dad hadn't saddled me with her, I would have let her go long ago. I mean, have you looked at her? She dresses like one of those widows from the nineteenth century. She's not even thirty yet, for Christ's sake." As he said the last sentence, he raised his hands in the air to accentuate his indignation.

I smiled at him indulgently, shaking my head. "You can't judge people only based on appearances."

He huffed. "Well, her personality is even worse than her choice of clothes."

"She's a nice girl, Emmett. At least she dresses appropriately," I said, my mind flashing to the mousy girl who almost all the time wore black for some unknown reason. Instantly, that image was replaced by one of Victoria and her skimpy skirt, and I had to keep myself from getting more frustrated than I already was with her.

"If you say so," Emmett replied, heading for the door. "So, eight o'clock tonight?"

"Mmhmm," I murmured, already back at reading my latest client's file.

"You don't mind having her over, right?" he asked, and I raised my eyes to see that he had once again stopped midway, looking uncertain.

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "If I minded, rest assured I would have let you know. But no. I rather enjoy spending time with my niece."

"That's all you ever do lately." He shook his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You need to get out more. Meet new people." He glanced at the door, then back at me. "You know what?" he said, his voice taking that serious tone that indicated he had set his mind on something. "Next weekend I'm taking you to a club."

"I don't want to go to a club," I argued, getting a bit annoyed with him. "I haven't been in years."

"Exactly. You need to stop acting and living your life like an old man."

"I'm not acting like an old man," I protested, my brow furrowing. "I'm acting according to my age."

He was silent for a long moment, looking at me as if he was contemplating something. "Okay, don't get mad," he started in a low voice. "I don't want to sound insensitive or anything, but… you need to get laid."

"Emmett…" I warned, and he put his hands up defensively.

"You don't have to be in a relationship for that," he added quickly. "All I'm saying is that… you need a distraction. Every since Tanya died you've been… different."

The expression on my face must have been murderous, because he backed down rapidly.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I don't know what I would have done if Rosie…" he trailed off, taking a sharp breath. "Eight o'clock."

With that, he spun around and exited my office, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I glanced down at the picture of me and Tanya that had been taken about three years prior.

We'd used to be so happy. Even though in the last year and a half of marriage things had been pretty tense between us, I knew we could have made it work. Eventually.

Why did life have to take her away from me?

_~~ 0 ~~_

After leaving work, I drove straight home. I greeted Peter, one of our doormen on my way upstairs, got into the elevator and pressed the button for my floor.

A couple of months after Tanya's death, I realized I couldn't continue living in the house we had shared for so many years anymore. Too many painful memories. Now, I called home a spacious condo on the 25th floor in downtown Chicago.

Once at the door, I reached into my briefcase and pulled out the keys, unlocking the door and stepping inside. I fumbled into the dark for the switch and turned the light on. Kicking my shoes off, I headed towards the kitchen. I pulled out a bottle of water and took the cap off, taking a sip. With the bottle still in hand, I made my way towards my bedroom, while with the other hand I began loosening my tie.

I took a couple more sips of water, then set the bottle on the nightstand as I started undressing. I put on a pair of jeans and a v-neck cashmere sweater, changing my socks as well. Like the rest of the house, my bedroom had enormous floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, so I headed in that direction and just stared at the quivering world literally lying at my feet.

Everything was so quiet these days. I missed coming home to an exuberant wife who always had something amusing or at least interesting to tell about her day. I missed coming home and having my senses invaded by the delicious smell of her cooking. I missed having someone to share my frustrations with. I missed sharing the bed with someone. I even missed the fights. I missed everything about having her in my life.

I despised coming back from work at the end of the day and finding the condo empty and… _cold_.

After a few more minutes of just staring, I glanced at my watch and saw that it was already twenty minutes past seven. With a heavy sigh, I tore myself from the window and went back to the kitchen. I opened the fridge once again and peered inside, this time looking for food. I found a food container with a label on it that said lasagna and took it out, setting it on the countertop. I silently thanked Susan, the lady who now took care of my meals, that she had made sure I had something to eat even on her day off.

After heating the lasagna in the microwave, I ate quickly and washed my dishes, then walked into the hallway. I put on a jacket and a pair of comfortable shoes and headed out the door again.

By the time I made it to my brother's house, it was well past eight. Jessica was already waiting in the foyer, fully dressed and her backpack hanging from one shoulder.

"You're late." She frowned at me as soon as I made it inside. She resembled her mother when she was upset so much it was scarry. "I've been standing here for fifteen minutes."

I chuckled, leaning over to kiss her on the forehead. "Sorry, kiddo. Did you get everything you need?"

She sighed, then shrugged, taking a few steps towards the door. "Yeah, I think so."

"She has an assignment to do in her English class for Monday, so make sure she doesn't forget about it." I turned my head to see Rosalie standing in the living room's doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. She was dressed like her classy usual self, with the exception of her bare feet.

"Okay, Mom," I replied teasingly, smiling at her. "Anything else?"

"Yes. Don't let her induce into a sugar coma."

"I won't."

She shook her head, clearly not buying it. "And please feed her decent food."

My brow furrowed. "Rosalie, I'm a responsible adult. I know what to feed a child."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she shot back sarcastically. "I didn't know you cooked."

"You know I don't cook, but Susan does," I said, starting to get aggravated with her. "Or I can take her to a restaurant. Whatever she wants. This is not the first time she'll be staying with me."

"Yeah, but…" she stopped mid-sentence abruptly. "Nevermind. You two have fun."

I knew what she had wanted to say. In the past, when Jessica had been staying over, Tanya had been there to take care of her. Tanya had been a great cook, so Rosalie never had to worry that her daughter wasn't been taken care of appropriately.

Tanya had been great with children. She would have been a great mother if she would have been given the chance.

"We will," I answered dryly, opening the door for Jessica. "Enjoy your weekend away."

"Are you excited at the prospect of spending the next couple of days in my company?" I asked Jessica while we were waiting at a red light.

"Yeah." She grinned at me, toying with her seat belt. "Can we go see Bella?"

"Who?" I looked at her, confused.

She rolled her eyes. "Bella. You know, the girl at the bookstore."

Recognition dawned on me. "You mean Isabella."

"No." She frowned deeply. "Bella."

"Her name is Isabella," I corrected.

"But friends call her Bella," she argued back stubbornly. "That's what she said."

The light changed to green, and I put the car in motion. "I wasn't aware of the fact that you're her friend already. You only met her two times."

I found my niece's attachement to a person she barely knew a bit unusual. Even if she had a friendly, amiable personality, most of the time she was extremely picky in choosing her friends. Even in school, she only had one friend; a girl named Katy. The rest of the girls, she said, were too conceited and fake for her taste. And they were only thirteen. I couldn't help but wonder what she was going to think about the female population when she got into high school.

Jessica shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. "So, can we go?"

"No."

"Awww," she whined, her mouth twisting into a pout. "Why not?"

"She doesn't work on weekends."

She squinted her eyes at me suspiciously. "How do you know?"

"I read the store schedule they had posted on the door," I said in explanation.

"Oh." Her face fell as she turned to glance out her window.

"Why do you like her so much?" I couldn't help but ask. "You've barely met her."

"I just do," she said, like it was obvious. "She's pretty. Why? You don't like her?"

"I didn't say that."

I took a left turn, then entered the building's garage and parked the car in its spot.

"So, you like her, too?" She stared at me expectantly. "You think she's pretty?"

"No," I answered quickly, taking off my seat belt. "I mean, she's okay looking. Well, not just okay…" I groaned softly. "Let's just drop the subject."

We got out of the car and made our way into the main lobby where Peter was sitting at his desk browsing through a newspaper.

"Back so soon, Mr. Cullen?" he said, his eyes first darting towards the purple backpack in my hand and then moving on to Jessica.

I nodded. "Yes."

"And who is this lovely young lady?" he peered over his glasses, leaning forward on his elbows that were resting on the desk. He was in his early fifties, had dark blond hair with gray sideburns and always wore a kind smile on his face.

"This is my niece, Jessica," I introduced her. "Jess, this is Peter."

"Hello," she said in greeting, thrusting a hand at him confidentely. "Nice to meet you."

His smile widened as he shook her hand warmly. "Well, it's definitely nice to meet you, too."

I started walking towards the elevator, and Jessica followed. "Have a good night, Peter," I called over my shoulder.

"You too, sir. Miss."

Jessica turned to wave at him, and I put a hand on her shoulder as we stepped inside. Once upstairs, we took off our shoes in the foyer, and I waved my hand in the general direction of the other bedrooms. I stopped shortly and shook my head at myself.

"I was about to say that you already know where your room is." I sighed. "New place," I reminded myself. "Come on. I'll give you the tour."

I showed her all the rooms, starting with the kitchen and ending with one of the guest bedrooms. "And this is where you'll be sleeping," I said, tossing her backpack on the queen-sized bed.

She ran to the window, looked outside and turned to me with a pleased grin. "I like it. I like your new home, uncle Eddie."

"I'm glad you do." I smiled, walking over to her.

We studied the city below for a while. She pointed to different buildings, and I told her what they were. When she got bored, she turned to me, batting her eyelashes pleadingly.

"Can we order pizza?"

"You didn't have dinner yet?" I asked, finding it hard to belive that Rosalie had let her go without dinner.

"I did, but I want pizza. Mom rarely lets us have it. She says we have to eat healthy and stuff." She scrunched her nose, heading over to the bed and plopping on it.

"Pizza it is, then. You want dessert?"

Her whole face lit up at the offer. "Yeah. Do they have tiramisu?"

"I don't know. Let me look." I went into the kitchen and pulled out a flyer from one of the drawers.

"Yes, they have tiramisu," I announced as I came back into her room. "So, what kind of pizza do you like?"

"Um…" she thought for a moment. "Mushrooms?"

I nodded, pulling my phone out and dialing the number on the flyer. "Your mother is going to kill me if she finds out I fed you pizza and tiramisu at this hour," I said with a chuckle.

"But she won't find out." She winked at me conspiratorially. "Who's going to tell her?"

_~~ 0 ~~_

The next morning we were getting ready to take our usual walk in the park, like we did almost every Saturday. But first we were going to take an early lunch, or better said brunch, at a closeby restaurant. I finished dressing by putting on a heavy sweater and headed out into the hallway.

"Jess!" I called, walking towards her room. "Are you ready?"

"One minute!" she replied through the closed door, her voice muffled.

I sighed and went into the living room to take a seat on the couch. I turned on the TV and watched the news while waiting. A few minutes later, she made an appearance.

"Zip up your jacket," I said, getting up.

She frowned. "But I'm hot."

"It's cold outside, and I don't want you catching a cold. Zip it up," I said again in a no-nonsense voice.

She huffed exaggeratedly but complied as we headed out of the condo. The other doorman greeted us politely as we passed by him on our way outside. His name was Boris. He was a bit younger than Peter, maybe in his mid forties and was a pretty quiet person.

"Do we really have to go to gran's house for dinner tonight?" Jessica said as we were walking on the sidewalk side by side. She looked up at me expectantly, her nose wrinkling.

I smiled down at her. "Not necessarily. We won't go if you don't want to."

She shook her head adamantly. "I don't. Can we have hot dogs for dinner?"

"You know what your mother said last night. No crappy food."

"Awww," she started whining. "Please? She won't know. Plus, I'm about to have a healthy lunch. I'll eat a salad or something." She wrapped her short arms around my right one, her eyes begging.

I chuckled. "There's no need for that. You can have hot dogs if you want. Only on one condition. We'll make them at home. Together. Susan called and she can't come to cook for us today because of some personal problems she's dealing with, so we're going to have to fend for ourselves."

She grinned at the prospect of getting to make her own meal, squeezing my arm. "Okay."

We were still a few minutes away from the restaurant, so we continued walking in companionable silence with her still attached to my arm.

"So, how's your boyfriend?" I asked teasingly as we reached our destination and I held the door open for her.

"I don't have a boyfriend," she muttered, glaring up at me as she stepped inside.

"Is he good looking?" I continued as we sat down at a table.

She didn't answer, looking preocupied by placing her napkin in her lap.

"Is he tall?"

Again, no answer. Luckily for her, a waiter came to take our order and he got me distracted enough to drop the subject, but I knew that sooner or later I was going to get it out of her. All joke aside, I wanted her to trust me enough to tell me if she planned on having a boyfriend. Teenage boys could sometimes be dangerous in their immaturity, and I didn't want her getting hurt, especially at such a fragile age.

_~~ 0~~_

After our lovely brunch, we headed over to the nearest park, where I always took her. Aside from a few joggers and people walking their dogs, the park was almost deserted at this time of the year. The fact that the weather was colder than usual on a November day made my fellow Chicagoans prefer to choose other destinations, or simply just stay at home.

However, I loved it. I loved seeing the entire park covered in brown and yellow leaves that seemed to form a gigantic blanket. I loved being surrounded by earth tones everywhere I turned my head, and I definitely loved inhaling the clean, fresh air that had a very nature-like smell to it.

An hour later we were about to exit the park when a loud screech brought my attention to Jessica.

"Uncle Eddie, look!" she cried excitedly. "It's Bella. Bella!"

She started running in that direction, and my eyes followed after her. About two hundred feet away, Isabella and her friend were walking at a leisure pace, dressed in jogging outfits. My first immediate thought was that it was interesting how we kept running into each other as a pure coincidence. I took a deep breath and headed over towards them where Jessica was already busy hugging Isabella.

As I approached them, Isabella's eyes raised to meet mine. "Hello." She smiled, her cheeks turning a faint shade of pink.

"Isabella." I nodded, trying to keep my tone light. I knew our last encounter hadn't gone too well, and I didn't want her to feel intimidated by me. Directing my attention to the woman next to her, I acknowledged her presence. "Angela, right?"

She smirked, giving my the once over boldly. "Hey."

Her stare made me feel self-conscious for some strange reason, which didn't happen often. I cleared my throat and addressed Isabella. "I see you're running in the park again."

"Yeah," she exhaled with a smile, leaning her weight on her left leg. "I gotta keep my figure, you know."

I didn't even get to open my mouth again when Jessica spoke next to me. "So, what are you doing later, Bella?"

Both mine and Isabella's eyes widened as we snapped our heads in Jessica's direction almost on unison.

"Uh…" Isabella stammered, glancing from her to me with a panicked expression on her face. "I don't know. I don't have any plans. Why?"

"You wanna come over to my uncle's house?" Jessica said in a chipper voice. "We're making hot dogs."

"Uh…" Isabella looked at me, searching for help.

"Jessica," I said in a firm tone as soon as I got over the shock of her inviting Isabella to my house.

She ignored me. "So?" she insisted, staring at Isabella expectantly. "You wanna come?"

I was livid. What the hell was she thinking inviting a stranger into my house? Of course, Isabella seemed like a very nice person, but she was still practically a stranger. I could count the few sentences I had exchanged with her on one hand.

Isabella must have noticed my indignation, because she said quickly, "I… I don't think that's a good idea."

Jessica frowned, oblivious to the warning glares I was throwing her way. "Why not?"

"Forgive her rudeness," I interfered, addressing Isabella. She nodded quickly, looking mortified, and I turned to my niece. "Jess, it's not common for people who barely know each other to…"

She rolled her eyes, cutting me off. "But we know Bella. She's not a stranger or anything,"

Isabella shook her head apologetically. "Jess, I really can't come."

"Oh, come on," she whined in response, pouting at Isabella. "Please? It's just me and Uncle Eddie. I'm staying at his place until tomorrow night. Don't you like hot dogs?"

"She does," Angela cut in, grinning at her friend pointedly. "She likes them a lot."

"Please?" Jessica begged again, clasping her hands in front of her and jumping up and down.

"Yeah, you should totally go, Bella," Angela insisted, the grin never leaving her face.

Isabella looked like a deer caught in the headlights. I actually felt bad for her. In fact, I felt bad for the both of us. Like most children, Jessica had no common sense whatsoever while Angela seemed to be attempting to shove her friend into my arms. Well, figuratively of course.

"Ang…"

"Please, please, please, please?" Jessica continued begging, and I thought with a mental sigh that she was going to turn me gray at thirty-four.

Isabella looked like she was really debating on what she should do. After a long minute in which only Jessica's petulant whining could be heard, she finally said, "Only if Angela comes, too."

"Okay," Jessica agreed, not even bothering to ask my opinion on the matter. I was really starting to wonder what kind of manners her parents taught her. None apparently.

I was going to have a little chat with her later.

"No," Angela said, holding her hands up. "I'm sorry, but I can't. I have plans for later this evening. I have a date."

Isabella glared at her. "No, you don't," she said in a low, menacing voice.

Angela smirked, seeming to be enjoying her friend's discomfort. "Yeah, I do. Did I forget to tell you?" I could detect a hint of mockery in her tone as she brought her forefinger to her chin and adopted a pensive posture.

"It's alright if you can't," I said to Isabella softly. "I understand perfectly."

She glanced at me then at Jessica, and finally said with a heavy, yielding sigh. "I have to change clothes first."

I swallowed thickly, feeling my throat suddenly go dry. She was coming.

"We can pick you up," Jessica offered, again not asking me.

"No, no." Isabella shook her head adamantly. "There's no need to bother. I'll… grab a cab or something…" She glanced at me tentatively, and I held my hand out.

"Give me your phone," I demanded, my voice hard. She was not to blame for the situation we were in, but I couldn't keep my irritation to myself. I wasn't very good at hiding my emotions. She dug into her pocket and handed me her phone with a shaky hand. I started to feel bad that I was taking my frustration out on her. I typed in my number and saved it under the name of Edward C. Then I typed my address and saved it in her ‚notes' folder.

"Here you have the address," I said, giving back her phone and trying not to sound as sullen as I was feeling. "I saved my phone number just in case."

She nodded, biting her lip and avoiding meeting my eyes.

"When are you coming?" Jessica inquired eagerly. "What hour?"

"Seven?" she replied softly, this time searching my face for approval.

I gave a slight nod as an only answer.

"Okay. We'll see you then," Jessica said as we started heading for the park's exit. "Don't even think about not showing up or I'm going to get really mad at you," she called, walking backwards.

Once we were back on the sidewalk, heading home, I turned to her with a hard expression. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Jess?"

Her eyes widened in surprise at the fact that I was scolding her. "What do you mean?"

"You just invited a stranger into my house," I gritted, fighting not to let my temper get the best of me.

"But she's not a stranger," she said weakly.

"Yes, she is, Jessica," I hissed, grabbing my hair in a fierce grip. "Jesus Christ."

We walked in tense silence the rest of the way. As I opened the door to the building for her, I murmured in her ear, "Don't you ever do this again, you hear me? Never again."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Later that evening, Jessica and I crossed paths in the hallway. She was coming out of her room and I was heading into the living room.

"I'm sorry," she said remorsefully as soon as she saw me.

"It doesn't matter anymore," I replied. "The deed is done."

She sighed heavily. "Are you mad at me?"

"Yes," I answered truthfully. "Very mad. But I'll get over it eventually."

Just then, the intercom started buzzing. Turning around, I walked over to it and pressed the answering button.

"Yes?"

"Sir," Peter's light voice floated through the air, "there is a Miss Swan here to see you."

So her name was Isabella Swan.

"Send her up."

Only a couple of minutes later, the doorbell rang. Jessica was nowhere to be seen, and I assumed she was either in the living room or in her bedroom.

I took the few steps to the door and opened it. There, on the other side stood Isabella, her face set in a serious expression as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other nervously. Now, I had seen women wearing dresses many times before, including my wife, but the dark green one she had on caused me to stare rudely.

"Hey," she said quietly.

My gaze snapped to hers, embarrassed that I had been caught ogling her. "Come on in," I cleared my throat, ushering her inside.

"I'm so sorry," she said abruptly, whirling around with apprehensive eyes. "I should have stood my ground and said no…"

"You're here now. It doesn't matter anymore," I cut her off, telling her the same thing I had said to Jessica earlier.

"I don't want to intrude."

"You're not intruding," I assured her. "And I know my niece can be very convincing when she wants. She would have kept insisting until you said yes."

"I won't be staying long," she said, starting to take off her knee-length boots. "I promise." She removed her trench coat and stood awkwardly.

"You can stay for as long as you want." I held my hand out. "I'll get that." I took her coat and her bag and put them in the nearby closet, before motioning for her to follow me. "Come."

I lead her into the living room where Jessica was seated on the couch watching TV.

"Hey, Jess," Isabella greeted, and Jessica's head spun in her direction.

"Hi." She grinned widely, taking in her outfit. "Oh, I like your dress."

"Thanks," Isabella replied shyly.

Jessica patted the space next to her eagerly. "Sit with me."

Isabella complied, and I remembered my manners.

"Can I get you something to drink?" I offered. "I have wine, beer, scotch…"

"A glass of wine would be fine, thank you."

"Red or white?"

"White," she said immeditely, not needing time to think. I had always liked a woman who knew what she wanted, even if it was something as trivial as her beverage preferences.

Heading over to the bar, I uncorked a bottle and poured two glasses while Isabella and Jessica started an animated conversation about the show playing on TV. I glanced over at the two of them, and couldn't help but smile. They did seem to get along pretty well, even with the age difference between them. Maybe Isabella liked children, too.

"Here you are," I said, handing her the glass.

She looked up at me with a smile, and I noticed just how big and round her brown eyes were. They gave her an air of innocence that I found endearing. "Thank you."

"I'm hungry," Jessica chimed in, bringing both our attention to her.

"I'll go get to work, then," I said, resigned that I was going to have to fend for myself. I didn't think Jessica wanted to help now that Isabella was here.

I was about to head out of the room when Isabella spoke. "I can help," she said over the rim of her wine glass, peering at me warily.

"You don't have to," I said, not wanting her to feel obligated. She was a guest, after all.

She got up, taking her glass with her. "I want to."

I nodded and guided her towards the kitchen, glad that someone was willing to help, because I honestly had no idea what I was doing. Cooking was not one of my fortes. I barely knew how to make an omelet without burning the building down.

Jessica remained glued to the TV like I suspected she was going to. Apparently, the TV show was more important than contributing in making dinner.

"I've never made hot dogs," I confessed as I started pulling items from the fridge. We had made a trip to the closest grocery store shortly after we got home from the park. I had found a hot dog recipe on the internet and bought the items it required. I only hoped I got them right.

"No?" Isabella looked at me in surprise from where she was leaning against the counter. It felt strange having a woman in my new house. No one had seen it yet except for Jessica. Not even my parents.

I shrugged, walking over to her and placing the groceries on the counter. "Have you?"

"Many times." She smiled sadly, glancing out the large window. "My dad used to love them."

"Used to?" I inquired curiously as why she was using past tense when referring to her father.

She nodded, not tearing her gaze from the window. "He passed away."

_Oh._

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said gently.

She took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled and looked at me. "I got used to the idea. It happened four years ago. My parents were in a car accident. Drunk driver. They both died on the spot."

I really felt for her. I knew all too well what it was like to lose someone who had an important place in your life. "It must have been hard, for a young girl to suddenly lose both parents."

"It was. It still is. But now I have my aunt Kate. You remember the woman from the bookstore?" she asked, and I nodded. "She's my dad's sister."

The subject was closed when Isabella turned to inspect the ingredients I had placed on the counter.

"This is everything I bought from the store," I explained. "I found an online recipe and these were the ingredients listed."

"Mmhmm," she hummed. "This should do. Do you have any garlic?"

"Oh, yeah." I opened the fridge again and pulled out the garlic I had bought.

"Can I have some ice?"

"Sure," I replied, not really getting what she needed ice for. "What for?"

She smiled sheepishly, holding up her glass. "I like my wine with ice in it."

"That's a bit… unusual," I replied with a chuckle, taking the glass from her nonetheless. "Especially in this weather."

She chuckled back. "Yeah, I know. I just like my drinks cold."

After adding a couple of ice cubes, I handed her back her drink. She thanked me, took a sip and set it down next to her.

She washed her hands at the sink, then looked down at the ingredients laid in front of her. "I need a bowl," she announced, and I began searching the cabinets until I found what I was looking for.

She set to work, putting meat and spices into the bowl, and I just stood at her side watching. "What do you need me to do?" I asked, not realizing I was standing too close to her until she raised her head to glance at me.

She flushed and looked back down rapidly. "You can chop the garlic and the onion if you want."

I found a chopping board that I didn't even know I had and began peeling the garlic.

"So, are you originally from Chicago?" I inquired, making small talk as we worked side by side. She seemed to know what she was doing, while I could bet my skills in handling a knife matched those of a toddler.

"No. I'm originally from Forks, Washington."

"Really rainy weather, right?"

Isabella chuckled. "You could say that. And you?"

"Well, I'm a born and bred Chicagoan," I said proudly, because I really loved the city.

"It's a good city," she agreed. "I like it here. Plus, you guys have a lot of great schools."

My interest was immediately piqued. "You're a student?" She looked young, but in these days you could never tell a woman's real age.

"Yeah." She beamed. "I go to Columbia College."

"Arts?"

"Journalism."

"Really?" I smiled, pleasantly surprised.

"Mmhmm."

"And you live with your aunt?"

"No. I live with Angela. We're both from Forks. We actually grew up together."

We continued working in silence for a few more minutes. Jessica came to see what we were doing, grabbed a can of Coke from the fridge and went back to watching TV.

"What did you do with the house in Forks?" I couldn't help but ask after a while. "I assume no one lives there anymore."

"I rented it. I don't want to sell it yet."

She sipped on her wine, then turned to look at me and gasped.

"Are you crying?" There was amusement in her voice, and I wiped at my cheeks with the back of my hand.

"This onion is killing me," I confessed with a husky laugh.

Isabella set her glass down then put her hand on top of mine gently. I froze, not understanding what she was doing until she took the knife from me and slid the chopping board in front of her. She finished my task for me in a matter of seconds, manuvering the knife impressively. The gesture reminded me of Tanya, but to my complete surprise it didn't make me sad or angry. It was… comforting seeing this domestic scene unwind in front of my eyes.

"So, what is it that you do for a living?" she questioned, starting to stir the sauce in the pan.

"I'm a lawyer," I said, pulling out a chair and sitting down as I continued to watch her a bit mesmerized.

"Nice." She grinned, showing off a very nice pair of white teeth.

I found myself smiling for the nth time since she had arrived. "I work for my father's firm. Cullen and sons."

Her eyes widened. "Cullen and sons?"

"You've heard of it?"

"Of course." She actually looked impressed. _Cullen and sons _was one of the most important and reputable law firms in Chicago, and apparently she knew that as well. "Wow. So your name is Edward Cullen."

"That's right."

"Wow," she uttered again, shaking her head. "You must have a lot of money," she muttered, but quickly caught herself. "I'm sorry. That was inappropriate."

I didn't answer. I simply stared at her, amused by her rambling.

She turned off the stove and turned around, taking in her surroundings as if for the first time. "So…um… you live alone?" she asked, biting on her lip.

I smirked, cocking an eyebrow at her. "As you can see."

_~~ 0 ~~_

"Wow," Jessica said in awe, her mouth full. "This is really good." She took another large bite of her hot dog and practically inhaled it.

"Thanks," Isabella said, flushing at the compliment.

"My mom never cooks like this," Jessica complained.

"Jess, we don't talk when we have food in our mouths," I scolded. I could swear she only behaved like this when she was with me. Never in her parents' presence. Maybe I was a bad influence on her after all.

"This is delicious," I complimented Isabella, pointing to my plate.

Her cheeks turned a bit redder, and I must admit I found her reactions quite… cute.

"I should go," she murmured sometime later as she finished her second glass of wine. She glanced at her watch and then got up, preparing to leave.

I was on my feet in a nanosecond. "We'll drive you home."

"No, no. There's no need. I'll grab a cab again."

I scowled. "It's not safe at this hour of night."

She waved me off nonchalantly. "I'll be okay."

"Jess, go get dressed," I instructed, and she didn't need me to tell her twice. She ran towards her bedroom as I leaned towards Isabella and said firmly, "I insist."

I'll be damned if I was going to let her wander the streets alone at almost eleven thirty at night. I might have had a temper, but above all, I was a gentleman. I would have never been able to forgive myself if something happened to her.

I helped her put on her coat and then got my jacket out of the closet. Jessica came out of her room fully dressed, her jacket zipped all the way up, and I winked at her approvingly.

As we passed Peter, I saw him watch Isabella with interest.

Once we reached my BMW, I held the passenger door open for Isabella while Jessica climbed in the backseat. I got behind the wheel, put on my seat belt and turned on the car. I reversed out of my parking spot and asked Isabella for instructions to where she lived.

About ten minutes later I had stopped the car in front of a modest apartment building. At least the neighborhood was decent enough, so she didn't have to worry for her safety every time she stepped out of the house.

"Bye, Bella." Jessica leaned between the front seats to give Isabella a hug.

Isabella smiled at her sweetly. "Come visit me soon?" Her question was directed at Jessica, but her eyes were on me.

"We will," I answered reassuringly.

"Thank you for driving me home."

"There's no need to thank me," I said gently. "Have a good night, Isabella."

"You too, Edward."

Later that night as Jessica was fast asleep, I sauntered into the kitchen where the smell of Isabella's cooking still persisted. As I enjoyed a glass of tap water, I couldn't help but notice that she had even washed the dishes, probably while I was on the phone with Emmett. A black object lying lifelessly on the kitchen table caught my attention, and I walked in that direction, picking it up.

It was Isabella's cell phone.

* * *

><p><strong>AN What was that? Is Edward actually starting to come around?**

**I think we all know what he's going to do with her phone, right? :D**

**Leave me some much needed love.**

**xoxo**


	7. Chapter 6: Surprised

**A/N I just wanted to mention that Bella attends Columbia College, not Columbia University. I know Columbia University is in NY not Chicago :) Sorry for the confusion.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

**Isabella Pov**

* * *

><p><em>~ November 12<em>_th__, 2011 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

I got out of Edward's silver BMW and headed towards the building, opening the door and stepping inside without looking back. Because if I did look back, I was sure I was going to stay there on the sidewalk and stare until he was completely out of sight.

I took the elevator to the fifth floor where I pulled my keys out of my bag and unlocked the door to the apartment, stepping inside quietly. I leaned with my back against the door and took a deep breath, closing my eyes.

I didn't even get a minute alone with my frantic thoughts before the darkened hallway became illuminated as Angela flipped on the switch. She was dressed in pajamas, had her hair pulled up in a messy bun and looked half asleep.

"How was it?" she asked in a hoarse voice, grinning knowingly. "Did you get laid?"

I huffed, turning my back on her. "I'm still not talking to you," I said, taking off my coat and hanging it on the hallstand. I removed my boots and kicked them to the side, heading towards the living room.

Angela followed close behind. "How long are you going to keep this up?"

"For as long as I see fit," I answered over my shoulder, plopping down on the couch.

She stood, her arms akimbo as she glared down at me. "So, you're not going to tell me anything?"

"Exactly." I placed my legs on the coffee table and grabbed the remote, turning on the TV.

"Oh, come on. I'm curious as hell."

I shook my head at her incredulously. "I still can't believe you let me go to his place alone."

She snickered in response. "I still can't believe you went."

I sighed, glancing at her. "I don't know what I was thinking. I just couldn't say no to Jess. She seemed like she really wanted me to go."

She rolled her eyes, not caring about my motivation for going. "Come on. Spill the beans already. I'm dying here."

"What part of I'm not telling you anything didn't you understand?" I said, throwing a pillow at her and missing.

"Don't make me get it out of you, because I will, and it's not going to be pretty."

"Oh, yeah?" I challenged mockingly. "What are you going to do?"

She narrowed her eyes at me, accepting the challenge. Whirling on her heels, she stomped out of the room with determination and returned seconds later holding my favorite pair of jeans and a pair of scissors.

My eyes widened. "What the hell?"

"Are you going to tell me?" She put a good sixteen feet distance between us, holding the jeans in one hand and the open scissors pointed towards them in the other, ready to cut.

"No," I said firmly, holding my hand open "Give me back my jeans."

"Tell me."

"No."

"I swear to God I'm cutting them," she threatened, starting to inch the scissors closer to the fabric.

I jumped to my feet, outraged. "Are you freaking crazy, Angela? Give them back." I started walking towards her, and she backed away, the scissors moving dangerously close to my jeans.

"Tell me," she demanded once again, heading over to the balcony.

"No!"

She stopped, shrugged nonchalantly and began moving the scissors in a cutting motion. "Say goodbye to…"

"Okay, okay! Stop!" I yelled, causing her movements to falter. "I'll tell you."

She grinned triumphantly. "I'm listening."

"First, give me my jeans back," I tried to bargain.

"Oh, no." She shook her head. "First you start talking. Did you have sex with him?"

I groaned, half annoyed, half embarrassed. "No, Angela, I did not have sex with him. His niece was there. Geez Louise. Who do you take me for?"

Disappointment flooded her facial features. "So nothing happened."

"Of course nothing happened. I barely even know him. And since when do I have sex on a first date? Not that it was a date or anything, but as a matter of speaking. Do you even know me at all?"

"Unfortunately, all too well," Angela muttered, throwing the jeans back at me and crashing in an armchair. "So what _did_ you do?"

"We just had dinner and I left," I replied, starting to pace the room in front of her with my arms crossed over my chest in a defensive manner.

She cocked an eyebrow at me suspiciously. "You left home around six thirty and came back well after eleven. You had dinner for five hours?"

"Well, no, of course," I said, continuing my pacing. For some reason speaking about spending time with Edward made me nervous. "I had to make dinner first."

"You made dinner?" Angela gaped.

"Yeah." I nodded hesitantly. "Hot dogs."

"Doesn't he have a cook or something?" she questioned, her brow furrowed as her eyes followed me. "He looks like he has money, and lots of it. And for the love of God, stop pacing, woman. You're making me dizzy."

I halted in my tracks abruptly. "I have no idea, but yeah, he's pretty wealthy. You know who his father is?"

"Enlighten me," she said flatly.

"Carlisle Cullen." I raised my eyebrows, expecting to see recognition dawning on her face.

She stared at me blankly in return. "Should that ring any bells?"

I groaned, resuming my pacing. "He's a very well-known lawyer."

"How do you know this stuff? I for sure didn't know this, and my father is also a lawyer, Bella."

"Well, _I_ actually read the paper and watch other things on TV aside from soap operas," I said pointedly.

She shrugged in response. "Luis Fernando is hot; you can't deny that."

"Anyway." I rolled my eyes. "His family is like… old money."

"So he was practically born with a silver spoon in his mouth," she concluded intelligently.

"Something like that." I headed over to the couch and plopped down, folding my legs under me. "He's way out of my league. You should have seen his place. He lives in this spacious condo that's just… dreamy."

"I'll tell you what's dreamy. He is."

"Yeah," I agreed with a sigh, gazing out the window. "Him too."

Angela chuckled. "So, you _are_ interested."

"I am, but let's face it. He's way, way, _way_ out of my league."

"Let me ask you something. Are we living in the Victorian era?"

I looked at her, not understanding the meaning of the question. "Uh…no. Duh."

"Then no one is out of your league. That's just stupid. You're smart, beautiful, educated, you have a sense of humor and on top of that you are a great cook. What more could a man want?"

"I don't know, let me think," I shot back sarcastically. "Maybe someone that is equal to him based on the social hierarchy criteria."

She huffed. "Are you really that stupid?"

"Wha…" I started to express my indignation, but she cut me off instantly.

"Seriously now. Trust me, he doesn't care about your money, or if you have any. He only cares about his."

"Whatever," I said, not agreeing, but not contradicting her either. "He's not interested anyway. He didn't even look at me like he found me attractive." I paused for a moment, then added in a low tone, "Plus, I think his wife died."

"What?" The new piece of information seemed to pique Angela's interest. "His wife?"

"Yeah. And I also think it's a very sore subject for him."

"Hmmm," she hummed pensively.

"Yeah." I sighed heavily, running my palms over me face. "Ugh… I don't know… he's just so… polite and… cold."

"Polite and cold? Isn't that like antithesis or something?" she asked amused.

I glared at her. "No it's not, genius." Then I went on. "He helped me put on my coat, opened doors for me and even drove me home. But I think that's just how he was raised, you know? He would have done the same for any other woman."

"Too bad," she said with a yawn. "He would have been a great candidate for a hot, unforgetable one night stand."

"I told you before, I don't want or need a one night stand," I said, getting up. "You know what? I'm going to bed."

"Already?"

"It's after midnight." I pointed to the clock on one of the walls. "I'm tired. Good night."

I turned on my heels and headed towards my bedroom with the jeans cradled to my chest tightly.

"Night," I heard her call softly behind me.

_~~ 0 ~~_

The next morning I woke up around nine thirty. I groaned as the strong light penetrated through my retina, and I covered my head with my fluffy comforter, trying to get a few more minutes of sleep.

As I lay there wrapped in warmth, my mind drifted to Edward. I replayed every scene from the moment we ran into each other at the park, to him greeting me at the door, and us making dinner together. I recalled being so close to him that I could smell the subtle fragrance of his cologne and how that made me feel. The way my body had silently reacted to his closeness; a fact so oblivious to him, but so very unsettling to me. I couldn't even begin to describe how I had felt when I had touched him, or when _he_ had touched me to help me with my coat. I was still amazed my legs hadn't gave up on me as soon as his skin made contact with mine. He was just so manly and handsome and…him.

How could I not be attracted to him? What woman in her right state of mind wouldn't give a limb and more for the chance at having that man to herself?

For a little while longer, I allowed myself to think about Edward and wonder just how good of a kisser he was. Then, with a suffering groan, I stretched my muscles and decided to stop fantasizing and get out of bed already.

I dragged myself out of my room and almost collided with Angela in the hallway. "Morning." I yawned, my eyes still foggy with sleep.

"Yeah, morning," she said hurriedly, heading for the front door. "Bye."

"Where are you going?" I asked confused.

"Amanda called," she explained as she scrunched down to put on her boots. "I'm babysitting those devil spawns of hers again."

I frowned, leaning back against the wall as I watched her. "You don't work for her anymore. Why the hell is she calling you all the time?"

She shrugged, putting on her coat and pink knitted beanie. "Because her kids are evil, and no babysitter can handle them for more than a few weeks. Besides, she pays well."

"Are you going to be there all day?" I whined, hating the prospect of being home alone on a Sunday.

"Yeah, so don't wait up. Gotta go. Bye." She started to head out and added over her shoulder, "Oh, and it's snowing outside."

With that, the door slammed closed behind her, and I was standing alone in the middle of the hallway.

"Snow?" I muttered to myself, walking into the kitchen and heading straight for the window.

Indeed, as Angela had said, the sidewalk below was covered in a white blanket while big, fat snowflakes continued to fall lazily from the gray sky, like they were in no hurry at all. I felt myself getting cold just watching the scene unfold. A shiver ran through my body, and I wrapped my arms around myself as I walked to the coffee maker and peered inside. No caffeine for me. Thanks, Ang.

While I waited for the coffee to make, I decided to take a shower and change clothes. Fifteen minutes later, I was clean and smelling nice as I took a seat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in front of me and a cheese and bacon sandwich. Greasy but so yummy.

With the breakfast eaten and the coffee drank, I had nothing else to do, so I grabbed a school book and started reading. By two o'clock I was bored out of my mind. I decided to make an apple pie just to kill time. By six in the evening I was ready to climb the walls.

I was mulling over the idea of going grocery shopping just to keep myself busy when the doorbell rang.

"Finally," I let out a relieved breath, happy that Angela was home. I didn't find it odd that she was ringing the doorbell simply because lately she had made a habit of forgetting her keys.

To say that the view awaiting me on the other side of the door shocked me would be the understatement of the year. Edward, in all his glory, perfectly combed hair and all, was standing in the hall, his hands buried in his coat's pockets. There were a few snowflakes scattered across his shoulders and into his hair, and I was sure it had to be a dream- a mean, tantalizing one at that- because it all seemed too good to be true.

I gaped like a fish on dry land. "E-Edward?" I stuttered, trying to comprehend what was happening. Was he really standing in front of my door, or was I so enamored that I was hallucinating?

He smiled. "Hello."

"What are you doing here?"

He pulled one of his hands out and held out what looked like a cell phone. I squinted my eyes. Yep, it was _my _cell phone. "You forgot this at my place."

"Oh." I reached out to take it from him. The second my flesh touched his, I all but fainted. He was so _warm_. "I didn't even realize I didn't have it anymore," I said slowly, staring at him. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, I came to my senses and invited him inside. "Come on in."

He stepped by me as he entered, very close, and I once again noticed that he smelled absolutely wonderful. What was it with him and the way he smelled?

I led him into the living room, and when I saw the state of it, I suddenly became embarrassed. A few of Angela's clothes were lying on the couch, and I hurried to pick them up and make room for him to sit. There were glasses and used napkins on the coffee table, and I grabbed those quickly, too, occupying my hands and arms at full capacity.

"Please forgive the mess," I mumbled, feeling my face getting redder and redder by the minute. "I wasn't expecting anyone."

"Don't worry about it," he said quietly, watching me in what seemed like amusement.

I fled the room to toss the clothes on my bed haphazardly and the glasses into the sink, and rushed back to him. He gazed up at me with those intense green eyes of his, and I was suddenly acutely aware of the fact that we were alone. All alone. In my apartment. Alone. Alone. Alone. And did I mention we were absolutely alone? I felt my temperature rising just thinking about it.

"How did you know where I live?" I breathed, straightening the oversized, electric-yellow sweater I was wearing over my blue sweatpants.

I felt so underdressed looking at his put together self. And he was also wearing casual clothes, but the numerous differences between him and me, even when it came to something like the quality of the attires, were so obvious it made my eyes hurt. I felt like some contemporary, plain version of Cinderella, with him in the role of the prince I would never have.

Edward leaned back into the couch, adopting a more relaxed posture. "Well, I already knew which building, I only had to find out which apartment. I asked an old lady I met downstairs."

"Oh." I bit on my lip nervously. "Thank you for bringing me my phone. You shouldn't have bothered. I would have come get it as soon as I realized it was missing."

"There's no bother. I took Jess home and thought I would make a detour since I was already out of the house."

I couldn't help but smile. "That was nice of you. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"No, no." He shook his head. "I should probably go."

His words were saying one thing, while his actions were saying the opposite. He didn't get up or make any other movement that indicated he wanted to leave. He let his gaze roam over the living room, taking in his surroundings.

"Where is your rommate?" he finally spoke again, directing his attention towards me once again.

"Angela?" I said, as if I even had another roommate. "She had to work today." I shifted my weight from one foot to another nervously then said, "Are you sure there isn't anything I can get you? I have some really good apple pie I made earlier. It's the least I can do."

He looked like he was contemplating what to do for a moment. "Well, since I'm already here, I guess I could have some apple pie."

I excused myself and rushed towards the kitchen, wide-eyed and still in shock at having him there. With trembling hands, I pulled the pie out of the fridge and cut a slice, putting it in the microwave to warm up. When I came back with the plate, I found Edward standing in front of my modest library, reading the book titles.

"You have a lot of good books here," he observed, turning to look at me.

I nodded. "I'm an avid reader. You like to read?"

"Yes, I do," he said, taking the plate I was offering. "Thank you." He grabbed the fork and cut a small piece, taking it to his mouth. "This is very good," he complimented, his eyes twinkling in a way I had not seen before.

"Thanks," I murmured, flushing once again. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, and was about to invite him to sit back down when his phone rang.

He took it out and glanced at the screen with a frown. "Do you mind?" he asked, holding the phone up.

"No," I said quickly, holding out my hand to take the pie from him. "Go ahead."

I put the plate on the coffee table and sat in an armchair, watching him pace the room, much like I had done the night before. It was almost surreal.

"Cullen," he answered promptly, his voice all business-like. He listened to the person on the other side of the line for a few seconds, then his tone took a husky note. "What? Why didn't you call me when you found out?" He listened again for at least ten minutes, as he continued his pacing, then sighed heavily. "Keep me updated." With that, he hung up, shoving the phone back into his pants' pocket.

"Sorry for that," he apologized. He stood still, staring blankly at the wall.

"It's okay," I said, and his gaze snapped to me.

He picked up his plate and took another bite. "It seems that the pie got cold," he commented, staring down at it.

I was on my feet immediately. "I'll reheat it for you."

When I came back, he was standing once again in front of the library.

"It's quite the eclectic collection you have here, Isabella." Edward gave me a small, knowing smile. "Jane Austen, J.K. Rowling, Dostoevsky, all kinds of psychology books, Hemingway, Sartre, la Fontaine, Indian philosophy, Jonathan Bennett, Aristotle, Spanish literature, Madonna, Dr. Seus, marketing books and so on. I'm impressed."

"What can I say…" I chuckled awkwardly. "I have varied taste when it comes to reading."

"I guess it's necessary for a future journalist." He nodded, taking the reheated pie from me. "Columbia College, hmm?"

I motioned for the couch, and we sat down, putting a considerable distance between us. "Yeah. It was a very personal decision. My mom attended Columbia College. She befriended my aunt Kate who has been living in Chicago since she got out of high school, and that's how she met my dad. She moved to Washington for him and ended up being a stay at home mom. My dad didn't want her to work. The things you do for love, right?"

"What did you father do?" He took another larger bite, and then another.

"He was the chief of police," I replied. "Where did you go to school?"

"Yale. Both my older brother and I."

_Of course he went to Yale. As if I needed another reason to make me feel inferior to him._

"So Jessica is your brother's daughter?" I continued making small talk.

"That's right." He took the last bite and set down the empty plate. "Do you have any siblings?"

"No. I'm an only child."

"It must be both a good thing and a bad thing, right?"

"Yeah."

His phone started ringing again, and he sighed, taking it out. "Speaking of siblings…" he murmured, staring at the name flashing on the screen. "Do you mind if…"

I waved him off.

"Yes, Jasper?" he answered. "No, I'm not at home… I don't know… Did Emmett put you up to this?… Fine. I can't talk right now. I'll call you later."

"Sorry," he said as he hung up, looking at me. "That was my younger brother."

"You seem like a very busy person," I noticed.

"I guess I am." He smiled. "Thank you for the pie. Can I have a glass of water, please?"

"Sure. Tap, flat, sparkly?"

"Flat."

I was about to get up when I heard the front door open and then close, followed by the swishing sound of a plastic bag.

"I brought dinner!" Angela lilted, the sound of discarded boots echoing through the apartment. "Don't even dare tell me you already ate." Seconds later she was standing in the doorway holding a Chinese food bag. Her nose and cheeks were pink from the cold, and she still had her beanie on. As soon as her eyes landed on Edward, she grinned slyly. "Well, hello."

"Angela," Edward acknowledged her.

"Edward," her tone took a serious note, mimicking his.

There was an awkward moment of complete silence. Angela stared at Edward; I glared at Angela and Edward looked preoccupied with his watch.

"I should get going," he said, rising to his feet.

Angela blocked his path. "Not so fast." She was almost half his size, but she was very intimidating when she wanted. Edward seemed to think so too because he glanced at me, looking for help.

"Angela…" I started to say, but she ignored me, focusing her attention on Edward.

"You're staying for dinner," she stated simply and with pure conviction. "I brought Chinese."

"No, I'm sorry. I can't." He attempted to get past her, but she moved to the left, blocking him once more.

"Yes, you can. Dinner at your house last night, dinner at our place tonight. I won't take no for an answer. How am I going to make up for the fact that I wasn't able to join you guys?" She grinned up at him. She was so full of it.

He looked over at me, and I shrugged helplessly, mouthing a 'sorry'. With a resigned sigh, he reclaimed his spot on the couch.

"Make yourself comfortable," Angela urged, winking at me way too obviously. "Can I get you a beer?"

An overwhelming urge to commit murder took over me.

Edward shook his head. "I'm driving."

"A beer won't kill you. Don't be such a wuss."

"Angela!" I yelled, my face going red in anger. What the hell was wrong with her?

"Fine," Edward suddenly snapped impatiently, probably getting fed up with her. "What kind do you have?"

For the love of God! The woman could bring out the worse in anyone.

She wasn't fazed by any of us. "Heineken," she answered smugly. "We only drink the good stuff."

While Angela went to bring the beer, I turned to Edward, mortified. "I'm so sorry. She's really…"

"…something?" he completed for me with a low chuckle.

I was instantly relieved that he wasn't mad. "I got used to her, you know?"

He nodded, leaning a bit closer to whisper conspiratorially, "I think I like her. She would make a great attorney."

_~~ 0 ~~_

"Oh, would you look at the time?" Angela said all of the sudden, looking at the clock and faking a yawn.

We'd had dinner, drank some beers and were now watching TV in companionable silence. From time to time, I would glance at Angela and see her grinning at me, her eyebrows waggling suggestively in Edward's direction. To my complete amazement and relief, she had been good the entire evening. She hadn't addressed as much as a sarcastic comment to Edward, which for her was the equivalent of saint behavior. She had not only been polite towards him, but had also carried an actual, mature conversation about being a lawyer. Her father, who now lived in Seattle after divorcing her mother was also a lawyer, so they had this in common, which I must admit kind of made me green with envy. Of course, Angela's father was nowhere near as well-known and successful as Carlisle Cullen, but he made good money. Too bad Angela and him weren't on speaking terms anymore.

"Indeed," Edward agreed, following her gaze towards the clock that showed it was ten past ten. "It's late. I'm going to…"

"No, no, no." She quickly jumped to her feet and grabbed her bag from the floor where she had thrown it. "Stay. I'm going to hit the hay. Night."

Before any of us had time to protest, she had practically ran and locked herself in her room.

"I don't know what all that was about. She's weird." I chuckled nervously.

I knew exactly what she was hoping would happen. She was just so stubborn. Couldn't she just understand for once that he wasn't attracted to me in that way?

"Are we actually watching this?" Edward gestured towards the TV, the bottle of beer still in his hand. It was his third, and the alcohol combined with the heat in the room gave his cheeks a rosy complexion which I found absolutely adorable.

Wait, scratch that. Nothing was adorable about Edward Cullen, but he sure as hell looked extremely handsome. Even more with the slight flush of his cheeks which actually made him look more… human. Not that he was an alien before, or anything, but his usual coldness could put off anyone. Now he seemed much more approachable and less intimidating.

"You don't like Megan Fox?"

"Who?" His brow furrowed in confusion.

"You know… the brunette."

"Ah." He stared at the screen, trying to decipher if there was something wrong with the actress. "No, it's not about her, but alien robots?"

"It's a good movie if you're into that kind of stuff. It's actually made after a comic book."

"I prefer comedies," he said, taking a sip from his drink.

"Really?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes." He leaned back into the couch and ran a hand through his hair, smiling. His gray sweater hugged his torso tightly, and I had to quickly avert my eyes to avoid being caught ogling him. "Why are you so surprised? I'm a funny guy."

"Honestly?" I said playfully. "You don't seem like a funny guy to me."

"I am. I know I'm… uptight sometimes…well, most of the time, but that's in part because of the stressful life I live." He paused and stared at the TV for a long moment, then added as an afterthought, "Sometimes I happen to look in the mirror and notice that I'm frowning. I don't even realize it until I actually see my reflection."

The conversation was dangerously close to taking a serious note, and I certainly didn't want that. I really enjoyed seeing this new, intriguing part of Edward surface, even if I was only privileged to small glimpses of this more laid back version of himself. At least for now. I couldn't help but wonder how it would be like to someday get to know the real him. The person underneath that hard exterior he was using as a shield against the outside world.

Oh, well, a girl could dream, right?

"Tell me a joke," I said, placing my right arm on the back of the couch and resting my head on it as I peered at him underneath my lashes.

"What?" He looked at me like I had asked him to get naked.

"A joke. You said you're funny. Prove it," I challenged with a smirk.

His eyes narrowed at the fact that I was actually challenging him, and then he smirked right back.

"What do you call 5000 dead lawyers at the bottom of the ocean?"

"A lawyer joke? Really?" I cocked an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged, taking another sip of beer. "Uh…okay. I don't know."

"A good start."

I chuckled. "I know you can do better than that."

"Why won't sharks attack lawyers?"

I shrugged one shoulder, reaching to the coffee table for my beer. "I have no idea."

"Professional courtesy."

I snorted a laugh and almost spilled beer all over myself. "Now that was a decent joke."

He chuckled lowly at my reaction. "Told you I'm a funny guy."

"I know police jokes," I offered.

"Do tell," he said, angling his body towards me with interest.

"What do u call a police officer that works in bed?"

"I don't know."

"An undercover cop."

"You can do better than that," he threw my words back at me, amused.

I searched my memory for a better joke.

"Two girlfriends were speeding down the highway at well over 100 miles per hour.  
>'Hey,' asked the brunette at the wheel, 'See any cops following us?' The blonde turned around for a long look. 'As a matter of fact, I do.' 'Oh, nooo!' yelled the brunette. 'Are his flashers on?' The blonde turned around again. 'Yup...nope...yup...nope...yup...'"<p>

Suddenly, Edward's face lit up as he burst out into a booming laugh. Not just a chuckle but a real, belly laugh. I was so shocked, I think my mouth was agape. I had never seen him like this. He was absolutely radiating with merriment.

"That's pretty funny," he breathed, wiping at the corner of his right eye with his thumb.

Encouraged, I went on.

"An old lady was speeding down the highway while she was knitting. A cop sees this and speeds up alongside her vehicle. 'Pullover!' the cop yells. 'No!' the woman replies indignantly, 'They're mittens!"

Again, he laughed loudly. Maybe it was the alcohol making him loosen up, maybe not. In either case, I was happy to see him like this. His good mood made mine escalate in intensity.

"I think you're actually funnier than me," he admitted after calming down.

"You know I am."

He shared a few more lawyer jokes, and by the time eleven thirty rolled around, he was ready to head home.

"It's late, and I think I've had a bit too much to drink," he said, placing his empty bottle on the coffee table and getting up from the couch.

"Are you going to be okay?" I asked, a bit concerned, walking close behind him as he headed into the hallway. "Maybe you should get a cab."

"No. I'll be fine. Let's hope a cop doesn't pull me over." He winked at me playfully as he leaned down to put on his shoes. Yes, he had actually winked at me. The night was getting better and better by the second.

"Thank you for the hospitality, Isabella," he said, his tone getting that serious note again as he paused with his hand on the doorknob. "I had a good time."

"Me too." I nodded, wringing my hands nervously behind my back. "So… I'll see you?"

"Yes..." Edward trailed off, staring at me intensely. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but didn't. Instead, he turned and stepped out into the lobby. He took a few steps away, and a strange wave of disappointment washed over me. Then, just as I was about to close the door, he abruptly spun around to face me. "Can I have your phone number?" he spoke the words quickly, his expression uncertain.

I nodded frantically -Jeez, could I have looked more desperate?- and told him the number as he whipped his cell out and started typing fast.

"Good night, Isabella." He smiled, this time leaving for real as he stepped into the elevator.

God, I loved it when he called me Isabella. He was the only one who ever did these days.

"Drive safely," I called, my face splitting in a ridiculous grin. In my excitement, I felt as giddy as a teenage girl with a crush.

I had Edward Cullen's number, and he had mine, not to mention that I had just spent the evening in his company.

Could life get any better than this?


	8. Chapter 7: Anxious

**Chapter 7**

**Edward Pov**

* * *

><p><em>~ December 10th, 2011 ~<em>

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

I paced the living room back and forth, a deep feeling of anxiety kneading my stomach.

It had been one month since I had last laid eyes on Isabella, and no matter how hard I had tried to push the thoughts about her to the back of my mind, they always came back in full force when I least expected it.

For example, just the day before, I was at the office, having a conversation with my father about a particularly challenging case when my assistant Victoria brought me same papers I had asked for. I thanked her, calling her Isabella in front of my father. My slip gained me a hateful glare from Victoria and a short, suspicious interrogation from my father.

A week before that I had almost dialed Isabella's number instead of my client's.

But what had been the last drop to fill the glass happened just last night when I had dreamt of her. I couldn't remember much of the dream, but the simple fact that she tormented me even in my slumber spoke volumes.

I had to do something about it as soon as possible. I couldn't afford to get distracted like that anymore. So, I paced the room, phone in hand, debating whether to call her or not.

Honestly, I had no idea what had gotten into me. The first time I had met her, nothing about her had appealed to me, and now I couldn't get her out of my head. I remembered seeing her as plain and... simply unworthy of my attention. Suddenly, she was not only beautiful, but also intelligent and great company to have around.

I had always been attracted to tall, pretentious, preferably blonde women. And now here I was, thinking non stop about a woman who was completely the opposite. She was petite of stature, definitely not pretentious, a brunette, and not to mention at least ten years younger than me.

I had to confess that what had practically opened my eyes and made me see her in this new light had been the two evenings we had spent together weeks prior. The first evening she had impressed me with her cooking skills, and the second had made me realize what a pleasant personality she had. Add the casual clothing and the lack of make up, and I was done for. Again, I had no idea why I had been so allured by this natural look of hers, as I had always been partial to make up on women. She made me feel like my tastes in the female population had suddenly taken an 180 degree turn.

However, no matter how much I liked her, I knew I wasn't ready for another relationship yet. This was the main reason I was still reluctant to call her. I didn't want to string her along, I didn't want to use her just for sex, and I most definitely had no intention whatsoever to hurt her in any way, shape or form. Not only did I not treat women that way, but she didn't deserve that kind of treatment from anyone.

I continued my pacing for about half an hour, all the while keeping a close eye on the clock. At two fifteen, I finally gave in and dialed her number as I took a seat on the couch. I was so nervous as I waited for her to pick up, I almost laughed at myself. Here I was, a 34 year old man, feeling like a teenager with a crush.

"Yeah?" she answered on the third ring.

"Isabella," I said smoothly, my stomach clenching at the sound her her voice. "It's Edward." There was a long pause on the other side of the line, and I clarified by adding, "Edward Cullen."

"I know who I'm talking to," she replied, her tone oozing something akin to annoyance.

I was a bit taken aback, therefore I lost my voice for a moment. Luckily for me, I was used to unexpected situations, so I managed to pull myself back together quickly.

"How are you?" I continued, thinking I might have caught her at a bad time.

"Fine," she said flatly. "You?"

"I'm… good," I said slowly, mentally searching for things I might have done to upset her.

_I haven't talked to her in a month_, _so whatever it is, I'm sure it has nothing to do with_ _me,_ I rationalized with myself.

"I was wondering..." I started again, leaning back into the couch and running a hand through my hair, something I usually did when I was under stress. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Angela and I are going to the movies," she replied in the same flat tone. "Why?"

"Oh," I breathed, a strange wave of disappointment washing over me. "Okay."

"Why?" she inquired.

"No reason," I lied.

"Edward," she said in a no nonsense tone, calling me out on it.

I sighed. "I thought maybe you wanted to accompany me to dinner."

"Oh." Again a long pause. My first immediate thought was that she was about to change her plans with Angela and go out with me instead. When she spoke again, I realized I had been wrong to assume such a thing. "I'm sorry, I already made plans."

I was neither used to or very good at dealing with rejection, so I did what every man in my position would have probably done.

"I understand," I said cooly, my friendly demeanor changing completely. "Well, have a good evening."

"Thanks," she said quietly.

"Bye."

I hung up and tossed the phone on the coffee table roughly, having a hard time believing she had actually blown me off. With a huff, I rose to my feet and headed into the kitchen. I took out a bottle of white wine from the fridge and poured myself a glass, preparing to lock myself in my study and work for a little while in an attempt to busy my mind.

I had my hand on the doorknob to the study when my phone started ringing. I walked into the living room and picked it up, frowning when I saw Isabella's number flashing on the screen.

I took a sip of wine, stared at the screen some more, then answered. "Yes?"

A different but still familiar voice spoke back. "Hey, it's Angela."

To say I was surprised would be an understatement. "Hello, Angela," I said gruffly, not really getting why she was calling me instead of Isabella.

"She'll go with you."

"What?" I said, feeling my eyebrows merging into one from how deeply I was frowning.

"Are you deaf?" she snapped, and I had to bit my tongue from saying something rude. "I said she'll go to dinner with you. I just remembered I can't go to the movies."

"Oh, really?" I shot sarcastically. "And why is that?"

She thought for a few seconds before answering. "I have… cramps."

It was plain as day that was a lie, but I let it slide. "Alright," I said in return, not really in the mood to deal with her. "Can I speak to Isabella now?"

I heard her pass the phone to Isabella, and shortly after I was greeted with a coy, "Hi."

"Hi." I tried to keep my tone as light as I could. I was in no mood for games, and I wanted a straight answer. She wanted to go out with me, yes, or no? Simple as that. "Is that true? You're not going to the movies anymore?"

She sighed. "I guess not. You heard Angela. She has cramps."

I shook my head, taking another sip of wine. "Yes, I think that was too much information," I said, my tone letting her knew I wasn't buying it.

"Yeah. So, um… where do you want to go?" I couldn't help but notice that her attitude had somewhat changed from our first conversation earlier. She didn't seem as irritated.

"I have a few suggestions, but I'm going to let you choose," I said, sitting down and placing my glass on the coffee table in front of me.

"No, no," she said quickly. "You can pick. I don't mind."

"Are you sure?" I insisted.

"Of course," she assured me, and I could sense a smile in her voice.

In response, an involuntary smile tugged at my own lips. "Fine. How about The Peninsula?"

"Uh… sure."

"You seem uncertain," I noticed. "You can tell me if you don't like it there. We'll go wherever you prefer."

"Well," she said softly, "I've never been to Peninsula, but I know it's very expensive."

"Yes," I confirmed. "And?"

She tsked impatiently. "And… did I ever give you the false impression I make a hundred thousand a year?"

I was baffled. Never in my life had I went out with a woman who thought I was going to let her pay for as much as a drink. "Isabella, you should know I don't expect you to pay for anything. Please don't offend my manners."

"I-I didn't mean to," she stammered, clearly embarrassed by her slip.

I nodded to myself. "Good. When should I come pick you up?"

"Is seven alright?"

"Let's make it six thirty," I offered, already eager to see her.

"Okay. I think I can do six thirty."

_~~ 0 ~~_

At six thirty sharp, I was pulling in front of her apartment building. I couldn't find an empty spot to park my car, so I pulled out my cell and called her. She answered promptly and a little breathlessly.

"I'm downstairs and I can't seem to find a parking lot," I explained, my gaze roaming the busy street.

"I'll be down in a minute." She hung up, and I settled back into my seat, waiting patiently.

A couple of minutes later, the door to the building opened and Isabella stepped outside. She spotted my car and started jogging in my direction, opening the passenger door and sliding inside quickly.

"Hey." She grinned, tossing her black clutch in the backseat. She was wearing a pair of black, high-heel boots and her familiar trench coat, a few snowflakes scattered across her shoulders.

"Hi." I smiled warmly, taking her in. "You look lovely."

She flushed. "Thank you." She started unbuttoning her coat, and I could see that she was wearing some sort of knitted plum dress underneath. Then she removed her gloves and ran a hand through her hair to tame it down from the effect the wind outside had on it.

With a final, lingering glance to Isabella, I started up the engine and put the car in motion, heading towards the restaurant.

"I haven't heard from you in a month," she suddenly blurted out, causing me to glance at her sideways. She was staring at me expectantly.

"Yes," I confirmed, my brow furrowing.

A long silence took over the confines of the car, neither of us saying anything else. After what seemed like an eternity, I was about to speak again, when she cut me off. "I'm sorry. It's not like you have an obligation to call or anything."

"I've been busy," I said, not the exact truth, but not a lie either.

In my peripheral I could see her nodding in understanding. "How's Jess?"

"She's good," I replied, relieved that she had decided to change the subject. "Bugging me to see you again."

"Maybe you can bring her to my place sometime," she offered.

I hummed, keeping my eyes on the traffic ahead. "Maybe."

Silence again. I reached over and fiddled with the radio, settling on a Phil Collins song.

"Edward," she started after a while. "Do you like me?"

At her question I nearly collided with the car in front of us. "Pardon?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"Nothing."

"No, no," I insisted, wanting to know what was on her mind. "What do you mean do I like you?"

She sighed, looking out her window. " I mean… why did you invite me to dinner tonight?"

"Because I think you're great company," I answered, not needing to think about it. It was the main reason I liked spending time with her.

"Just because of that?" she inquired, this time looking at me.

"Mostly, yes."

"Okay. Do you think I'm attractive?"

"What?" My expression must have turned as white as paper.

"Answer the question, please."

It was my turn to sigh, this time in frustration. Glancing in the side mirror, I saw that there was no car behind me, and I pulled to the right, killing the engine. I removed my seat belt and angled my body towards Isabella, knowing that sooner or later she and I would have to have that inevitable conversation.

"Yes, I think you're an attractive woman," I answered truthfully, looking her in the eyes. "What's with all the questions?"

She shrugged, averting her gaze. "I just… I want to know… what do you really want from me? Just friendship or… something more?"

"I…" I trailed off, not sure how to reply. "I haven't thought of that."

She peered up at me through her long lashes, and I swallowed thickly. She truly was beautiful, and I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed it sooner. "You haven't?"

"Well, I have, but…"

"But?" she urged.

It was still hard for me to talk about Tanya, but I knew that I had to if I wished to at least maintain a friendship with Isabella. So I took a deep breath and said what needed to be said. "My wife died."

She nodded, looking at me warily. "I suspected as much."

"I don't think I'm quite ready for a relationship yet."

"When did she die?" she asked quietly, her voice barely heard over the one of Celine Dion's singing _My heart will go on_. How fitting.

I cleared my throat and turned down the volume before answering. "Almost a year ago."

"So what…" she said, trying to sound nonchalant. "You just want sex?"

"No!" I exclaimed, horrified that she would think such a thing. "God, no. I would never use you like that." I had the impression she didn't seem convinced, so I rushed to add, " Look, Isabella… I really enjoy your company. You're not only physically appealing, but you're also smart and funny. For now, I just want to be friends."

"For now? So that means…"

"I honestly don't know what that means. I don't want to lead you on. All I know is that I enjoy spending time with you. Can you accept that?"

For a moment she just stared at me as if trying to decipher if I was telling the truth or not. Then she shrugged and offered me a smile. "Okay."

I saw her eyes travel over my face and settle on my mouth where they lingered.

"What?" I said amused, causing her eyes to snap back to mine. "Why were you staring at my lips just now? Do I have something on them?"

I brought my thumb to my mouth and started wiping superficially as her cheeks turned a bright red.

"No." She shook her head, looking uncomfortable. "Um…you should know that I find you physically appealing as well."

I laughed, finding both her confession and her reaction quite endearing. "Good to know."

_~~ 0 ~~_

After a pleasant dinner in the loveliest company one could ask for, I drove Isabella back home. We chatted some more in the car, and she must have sensed I was reluctant to leave because she invited me upstairs for a cup of coffee. Needless to say, it didn't take much for me to accept.

We entered the modest apartment, and my gaze was drawn to the kitchen clock that was visible even from the narrow hallway. It was just past nine, and I promised myself I wouldn't be staying long. Half an hour at best. With that thought in mind, I removed my shoes and my coat, following Isabella into the kitchen. She immediately started the coffee maker, motioning for me to take a seat at the kitchen table.

"Where's Angela?" I asked, noticing how quiet the apartment was.

Isabella turned to me with a playful smile. "Probably in her room hiding. In case you haven't noticed she's trying to hook us up."

"Oh, I noticed." I chuckled. "She's not very subtle."

She rolled her eyes, placing her palms on the counter behind her and hopping up. "Tell me about it."

The dress I had been admiring all night rode up to the middle of her thighs, exposing the pale skin of her legs encased in a pair of sheer pantyhose. I stared unashamedly, feeling my tension rise at the sight unfolding just a few feet away from me. I may have been a widower, but I was still a red-blooded male with certain needs. Not having had any kind of intimate relationship with a woman for about a year and a half didn't help at all.

Isabella cleared her throat, and I forced myself to look away.

"But why is she trying so hard?" I continued like I hadn't been undressing her with my eyes just moments before. "Does she like me that much?"

She shook her head, still smiling. "You don't even want to know."

"Yes, I do," I said, now intrigued. "Tell me."

"I can't tell you."

"Why not?" I pressed. "I'm curios."

She snickered, arching an eyebrow at me. "Don't you know that curiosity killed the cat?"

"Tell me."

"No."

"Why not?"

She sighed exasperatedly. "Because it doesn't matter. Take it like this… she likes to interfere in other people's lives."

"Isabella."

"Fine, you want to know?" she relented with a huff, shifting her position on top of the counter and causing the dress to ride up even more. "She thinks I should have sex with you."

"What?" I swallowed thickly, my gaze alternating between her legs and her face. "Why?"

She blushed then, ducking her head and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, aside from the obvious reasons… I haven't had it in quite some time and that's unacceptable to her."

"Quite some time as in…?" I trailed off, letting her complete the sentence.

"A year," she answered softly, biting on her lip and looking at me through her lashes. I was certain that if she did that one more time, I couldn't be held responsible for my actions. It was actually starting to drive me insane how attracted I suddenly felt to her. So, for the sake of my sanity and her well-being, I decided it was best if we talked about something else.

"Yeah," I said distractedly, me eyes never leaving her. "We should probably change the subject."

"Right." She nodded, hopping down from the counter and straightening her dress. I was so relieved, I actually let out a deep breath. "So… coffee?" she asked, turning her back to me and reaching up to one of the cabinets for some mugs.

The fabric molded to her hips snugly, accentuating the delicate lines of the thong she was wearing, and I let out a low groan, turning my head to look everywhere but at her.

"Mmhmm," I answered with a strained hum, because I didn't think I was capable of actual words anymore.

"That was awkward." She chuckled as she started filling the mugs, her back still to me. "You know, the sex talk."

"Yeah," I said quietly, looking out the window. If only she knew the effect she currently had on me…

"You know who's awkward?" Angela said in a bored voice as she stepped into the kitchen. "You two. Just do it already and make me happy. I'm tired of playing the role of matchmaker."

She was wearing pajamas, a pair of pink bunny slippers and had a magazine in her hand, her gaze bouncing between me and Isabella. Grateful for the interruption, I smiled at her.

"Hello, Angela. Nice to see you again."

"Yeah, yeah." She waved me off, tossing her magazine on the table in front of me and walking over to where Isabella was. "You two are having coffee at this hour?" She peered over Isabella's shoulder, then reached out and grabbed the mug from her hand. Isabella protested, and Angela turned to me with a smirk, sizing me up. "Oh, right, you needed a reason to bring him up."

Isabella frowned. "Angela, how about you go back to your room and stay the hell there for the rest of the night?"

"And let you guys have all this fun to yourselves?" Angela replied sarcastically. "Nah. Besides, it's obvious nothing's going to happen so I might as well just stay here with you." She gave me a pointed, almost mocking look, and I narrowed my eyes in return.

Angela took a few sips of coffee, then sat the mug down and headed over to the fridge, opening it and pulling out a large plate with a chocolate cake. "Who wants cake?" she asked, placing the plate on the table and waggling her eyebrows at me. "Bella made it. Did I mention she's a great cook?"

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me. The girl was simply relentless. "What do you do for a living, Angela?" I asked, thinking she must have inherited her father's attorney spirit.

"Does it matter?" she answered, cutting a piece of cake and placing it on a smaller plate.

"Not really, but I was wondering."

"I'm a nurse."

"Oh, really?" I said with an amused chuckle. I certainly hadn't been expecting that.

She turned to me with one hand planted firmly on her hip and the other pointing the knife at me. "Yeah, why do you look so surprised?"

I grinned, but leaned back a few inches, eying the knife suspiciously. "I don't know… with your personality I tend to be afraid for your patients."

"Haha," she said dryly, inching the knife closer to me and trying to look menacing.

"What do you do if one of them gets you mad?" I teased, and I could see Isabella shaking her head in my peripheral.

Angela smirked, playing along. "I give them cyanide and get even."

"I thought so."

She laughed, turning back to her task. "Smart ass. So, do you want cake or not?"

"No, we already had dessert, but thank you," I politely declined.

"I heard you took her to Peninsula," she said, putting the cake back into the fridge.

"Yes."

"Expensive as hell, but it's not like you can't afford it," she said bluntly, and Isabella groaned in annoyance.

"Ang, don't you think it's time to go back to your room?" she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly.

Angela rolled her eyes at her friend. "Whatever. I'm going." She grabbed her plate and a fork and headed out of the room, calling over her shoulder, "Bye, Edward."

"Bye," I answered, watching as her fluffy bunny slippers disappeared from sight.

I looked at Isabella and saw that she was smiling at me. "Would you like to watch a movie?"

"Why not." I smiled back, getting up. "What do you have?"

She shrugged, seeming to think for a minute. "Oh, I know. Let's watch 'Pretty woman'. I haven't seen it in forever."

"I've never seen it," I said, grabbing the mug Angela had abandoned on the counter.

"Really?" Isabella took the mug from me and handed me the one she was holding.

I nodded, bringing it to my lips and blowing into it. "Yes. I don't recall ever watching it."

"Well then, 'Pretty woman' it is."

We headed into the living room and I took a seat on the couch as Isabella looked for the DVD. She found it and pressed play, coming to join me on the couch, but putting a bit of distance between us. We watched the movie, but my mind wasn't really there. While Isabella seemed engrossed in the plot, her gaze never leaving the screen, I kept stealing glances at her.

I wondered what the destiny had in store for me.

Would I ever get to be more than her friend?

Would I ever be able to love another woman again?

Would I ever get remarried?

And most importantly, would I ever get to see my biggest dream of becoming a father come to fruition?

These were the questions I didn't have the answers to, but I _did_ have every intention of finding out. Even though I wasn't ready to dedicate myself to a new relationship quite yet, I had no desire to continue being alone for too long either. I just needed some more time.

"Richard Gere is hot," Isabella's comment suddenly brought me out of my inner musings.

I smiled at her indulgently. "If you say so."

"Too bad he's a Virgo," she contemplated.

"Why?"

She angled her body towards me, peering at me over the rim of her mug. "I'm a Virgo and two people born under the same sign don't really match. Not that it's of any relevance in this case, but just saying."

I leaned towards her and whispered conspiratorially, "I don't believe in signs."

She didn't seem bothered by the closeness. "When is your birthday?"

"June 20."

"You're a Gemini."

"Yes, I know," I murmured, gazing down at her. I lifted my right arm and draped it across the back of the couch, behind her shoulders. Again, she didn't seem to mind it. "Jessica once told me."

Her eyes travelled from my arm to my face, and then she smiled. "Geminis are shallow."

"Who says that?" I said, not really caring for an answer as I was too preoccupied counting the freckles scattered across her cheeks and nose.

"The books, the internet, personal experience…" she enumerated, her large brown eyes twinkling mischievously. "Angela's a Gemini. She's crazy."

I chuckled. "Well, thanks for the compliment, but I don't consider myself neither shallow or crazy."

"Good to know," she said playfully, taking a sip of coffee.

"So…" I pulled back, putting my other arm on the back of the couch and adopting a more relaxed posture. "What do the books says about the Gemini slash Virgo compatibility?"

Yes, I was actually flirting. It had been so long since I had flirted with anyone else but Tanya that I somehow felt a bit out of practice.

Isabella shrugged, reaching over to remove some invisible lint from my button down shirt. Yes, I concluded quite pleased, she was flirting back. "It doesn't work. Bad, bad compatibility."

"Then you should stop reading those books," I suggested. "As you can see, we are getting along just fine."

"Yeah, but I have to admit, I'm still afraid one day you'll turn crazy on me like my roommate. There's only so much craziness I can handle." She smirked. "And do I need to add that Geminis are notorious for cheating?"

"That's not true," I replied defensively.

"Yes, it is," she contradicted, the smirk never leaving her face.

I frowned. "Did Angela ever cheat on a boyfriend?"

"Not that I know of."

"See?" I pointed out triumphantly. "As for me, I know I'm a one woman kind of man."

"So…" she trailed off, biting on her lip gently. "You've never cheated?"

"Not that I know of," I replied teasingly, and we both chuckled. "What can you tell me about Virgos?"

"That's easy." She sat up straighter, looking smug. "They're the best sign ever."

I rolled my eyes at her. "Besides that."

"We're hardworking, generous, loyal, intelligent…"

"Those are only qualities," I cut her off, leaning to whisper in her ear. "I'm more interested in flaws."

"We're very criticizing," she replied quickly, turning a deep shade of red. "That's the main flaw."

I pulled back from her and nodded. "I think I can handle criticism."

_~~ 0 ~~_

"I should get going," I said, glancing over at my watch. It was a few minutes after midnight; time for me to head home. Isabella led me into the hallway, waiting patiently as I put on my coat and shoes.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" she asked, leaning against a wall. "Well… today. It's after midnight."

"Are you asking me out?" I arched an eyebrow playfully, finishing buttoning my coat and pulling up my collar in preparation to confront the cold outside.

"Maybe." She smiled coyly, toying with a ring on her middle finger.

"I don't have any plans. I'll probably have Jessica over. You want to come and spend some time with her? She really likes you."

"Yeah, okay," she accepted.

"Do you want me to pick you up?"

"No, I think I'll take Angela's car."

She pushed away from the wall as I took the few steps to the front door and opened it, stepping into the chilly lobby.

"Good night," I said, watching her stand in the doorway as I walked over to the elevator and pushed the button. The elevator arrived, and I prepared to step inside when Isabella called behind me.

"Edward?"

I turned to face her and saw that she has left her spot in the doorway and was heading towards me with small but determined steps. She reached me and placed her palms on my chest, lifting herself on her toes and kissing my cheek.

"Thanks for dinner," she breathed into my ear before pulling back.

I was so taken aback that for a moment I had no reaction whatsoever. Then, just as she was turning around to head back inside, I took hold of her wrist and pulled her back to me.

She gasped softly when my hands cupped her face and I brought my lips to hers.

It was a gentle kiss that lasted about three seconds, but with a deep meaning. It was the meaning of a promise. A promise that someday soon I would be able to give her so much more. All I asked for was time.

Breaking the brief kiss, I pressed my fervent lips to her forehead, and I felt her shudder with emotion. Letting go of her, I stepped backwards until I was inside the elevator. Without another word, I pressed the button to the first floor, my gaze never leaving her. She stood in the lobby, flushed, wide-eyed and her arms wrapped around herself almost protectively.

The doors closed, and all of the sudden I was alone staring at silver metal.

* * *

><p><strong>AN Leave me some much needed love!**

**xoxo**

**~Andreea~ **


	9. Chapter 8: Inquisitive

**Chapter 8**

**Isabella Pov**

* * *

><p><em>December 11<em>_th__, 2011 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

I stood in the chilly lobby staring at the descending elevator.

Slowly, I unwrapped one of my arms from around my torso and brought my forefinger to my mouth, tracing my bottom lip absentmindedly. I could still vividly feel the softness of his lips and the taste of his coffee soaked breath as if he had imprinted them on me. Not to mention the burning feel of his large, masculine hands cupping my cheeks so gently yet so domineering. His cologne, now so familiar but still as memorable as the first time I had smelled it was lingering in the air like a pure, undiluted fog of lustfulness clouding my brain.

Yes, Edward Cullen, cold, pretentious, disturbingly rich lawyer had just kissed me, and I was about to melt into a puddle of hormonal goo. He had kissed me. On the freaking lips no less. Apparently, he was not as uninterested as I had thought him to be.

To be honest, I had no idea what had possessed him to do it in the first place. He had made it pretty clear that he wasn't ready for a relationship yet. I, on the other hand was becoming increasingly more and more interested in him.

That night in November when he had left my apartment with my cell number, I was convinced I was going to hear from him soon. The next day came and went without hearing a word from Edward, but it didn't bother me as I was well-aware of his busy work schedule. Then three days passed and then a week, and my phone remained silent. By week two I was starting to lose hope and by the time a month had passed I was downright pissed. I simply couldn't understand why he had even bothered to ask for my number in the first place if he didn't plan on using it. So, by the time he had the courtesy to actually make use of it, I don't think it was such a big surprise that I reacted the way I had. I was positively irritated with him. So, I did what every woman with a decent amount of self-respect would have done. I turned down his invitation to have dinner with him. That's until Angela heard about it. She threw a fit and started threatening me with whatever crossed her mind at the moment. Now, seeing how the night had ended, I was more than grateful that she had practically forced me to go out with him.

Yes, Edward Cullen wasn't perfect. I was sure he had his flaws – which I had yet to discover- and his own personal life issues –which I was just starting to find out about- but he definitely was one of those rare men who were worth sacrifices.

The sacrifice I was willing to do for him was called patience. I was going to give him time to work through his problems. I was going to give him my friendship and if he later decided he was ready to offer me more, I was going to take it.

Why?

Because he was worth it.

This Cinderella was now one step closer to conquering her Prince.

With a grin so big that I was afraid my face was going to be splitting in two, I spun on my heels and headed back inside, closing the door behind me.

I was heading towards my room to change into pajamas when the door to Angela's bedroom opened and her head peeked out from behind it. "Is he gone?" she whispered, her eyes roaming the hallway inquisitively.

"Yeah," I answered, smiling widely.

"So?" her voice returned to its normal tone as she stepped out into the hallway and leaned against a wall, crossing her arms over her chest. "How did it go? You look… strange."

My eyebrows arched in surprise. "What do you mean I look strange?"

She frowned. "I don't know. You're sort of… beaming. Did something happen?"

"Yeah," I admitted coyly, heading into my room and plopping on the bed. Angela followed. "Sort of."

"Wait." She gasped, placing her hand over her heart dramatically. "I napped for a little while, so I didn't hear anything, but… did you actually do it?" I looked at her blankly in response, and she laughed, catapulting herself on the queen sized bed next to me. "Oh my God, you little slut!" she shrieked, bouncing on her knees excitedly. "I'm so proud of you."

I burst out into laughter at her reaction. "Yeah, yeah, you might want to keep the exuberance to a minimum. He just kissed me."

"Oh." She stopped bouncing abruptly, her animated expression deflating in an instant.

"Oh?" I repeated, shaking my head at her disapprovingly. "Oh? Did you even hear what I said? I said he kissed me. On the lips."

She looked positively unimpressed. "Did he at least slip you some tongue?"

"No."

She let out a heavy sigh and plopped down onto her back, her arms and legs spread eagle-style. "God, you two are killing me. You're both acting like a couple of awkward teenagers. Just fuck already and get it over with."

I groaned, smacking her thigh. "Do you have to be so crass all the time?" I admonished, glaring down at her. "Edward doesn't fuck. He makes love."

At my words she started laughing hysterically. "Oh, you poor innocent soul."

"What?" I narrowed my eyes at her. When she didn't answer because she was laughing so hard, I got up with a huff. "What's so hilarious?" I said annoyed, starting to pace the room. "In case you haven't noticed, he's a gentleman."

She propped herself on her elbows to look at me with amused, watery eyes. " I noticed all right." She chuckled, watching me pace. "I also noticed the way he was looking at you earlier in the kitchen. Trust me, when the time comes…" she paused to roll her eyes for effect, "… if ever… that man will not make love. He will fuck. That's all I have to say."

"You think?" I asked softly, chewing on my thumb and trying hard not to think of Edward naked… in bed… with me.

"I'm sure of it." She nodded firmly, grinning. "And it's going to be sooo so good." She was quiet for a few seconds then added teasingly, "You do remember who made love, right?"

"You mean Jacob?" I said, referring to my ex.

"Yeah, and we both know how well that went. You need a real man who knows how to take care of your needs. Edward seems like the type of guy who knows how to handle a woman in bed."

"Yeah," I agreed with a dreamy sigh, walking over to gaze out the window. The street below, covered in a thick layer of fresh snow was pretty much deserted. A solitary Bobcat was plowing the snow lazily while a tall man wearing a Russian-style hat was hurrying towards his destination, his hands buried deep into his jacket's pockets.

After a while I turned back to Angela with a new smile plastered on my face. I had to admit that the prospect of anything that involved Edward and a bed was really appealing.

"Alright, you're going all goofy smiles on me, and it's creeping me out," she said, giving me a strange look. "I think it's time for you to go to bed."

"And dream of Edward and his amazingly soft lips," I replied, walking away from the window to sit back down next to her.

"Okay, that's it," she groaned, turning on her side and trying to shove me out of the bed. "Just get out of my face. I can't look at you anymore or I'll throw up my whole dinner."

I chuckled, shoving her back. "Then go lie in your own bed."

With a grunt she got up and started walking out of my room. She stopped in the doorway and turned to throw me one last glance. I gave her a big dopey grin and she made a horrified face. "You are seriously scaring the crap out of me."

_~~ 0 ~~_

The next morning I woke up feeling refreshed. As I stretched my limbs lazily, I remembered fragments of a dream I'd had that night. I had dreamt that Edward and I were together and he invited me to spend a week on his fancy yacht somewhere in the Bahamas Islands. It was a short and silly dream, induced by the recent events and fueled by my newly awakened hormones, but it had put me in excellent mood. I could bet Edward didn't even own a yacht.

As I stepped into the hallway, I could smell the delicious scent of freshly brewed coffee luring me towards the kitchen. I headed in that direction, eager for my daily caffeine fix.

Angela was sitting at the kitchen table, having breakfast and browsing through a magazine. She looked up when she heard the shuffle of my slippers scratching the linoleum.

"Morning, Sunshine," she greeted.

I beamed at her, making my way to the coffee maker through foggy vision. "Good morning."

"Oh, sweet baby Jesus," she breathed incredulously. "There's that creepy lovestruck grin again."

I poured myself a cup of the greatest drink ever invented by human kind, took a sip and sighed contently.

… _and on the eight day, God created coffee…_

I turned to face Angela, my hands wrapped securely around the hot mug. "I'm just in such a good mood today, you know?"

"Uh huh." She rolled her eyes at me. "Did you dream of your Prince Charming last night?"

"Maybe," I admitted sheepishly, peering at her over the rim of the mug.

She looked at me like I had suddenly grown a beard. "You can't be serious. What are you, twelve?"

"Shut up. Nothing you say can put me out of my good mood," I said, taking another sip.

"The washing machine broke," she said nonchalantly, popping a piece of bagel in her mouth.

I almost spit coffee on her. "What?" I squeaked, the warm liquid going down the wrong pipe and causing me to cough like I had been chain smoking for fifty years.

"Yep," she replied, popping the 'p' and staring at me impassively as I finished coughing my lungs out. "How's the good mood now?"

"It's out the freaking window," I said with a frown, my voice rough. "How the hell did it break?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"What did you do this time?" I said accusingly.

"Nothing."

"Angela," I warned, getting annoyed with her incompetence. It wasn't the first time she broke things. First it was the blender, then the toaster -yeah, she had somehow managed to break a freaking toaster- and now the washing machine.

"What?" she said defensively. "It's true, I didn't do anything."

With narrowed eyes, I placed my mug on the counter top and stomped towards the bathroom. I lifted the washing machine's lid and glanced inside only to see a huge bundle of soaking wet clothes. They were so many, the lid couldn't even be closed properly.

"Angela!" I hollered angrily. "Get your ass in here."

"What?" She appeared seconds later, half a bagel covered in honey in her hand.

"What is this?" I demanded, pointing towards the open lid.

"Uh… is this a trick question?" She took a bite of her bagel, and looked at me with raised eyebrows, only to be met with my hostile glare. "Okay, it's my clothes."

"Too many clothes!" I snapped. "You over loaded it, didn't you?"

" I guess…" she trailed off apprehensively.

"This thing is ancient! You can't do that. And where's all the water?"

"I mopped it from the floor earlier."

At her words, the blood must have rushed to my head, because I was starting to see red. "You flooded the bathroom?"

"I told you the damn thing broke," she said, giving it a kick.

"No, _you_ broke it," I gritted.

"We'll get someone to fix it. It's not that big of a deal."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "_You_'ll get someone to fix it. I'm not paying for this."

"Fine," she huffed. "Whatever. Now can you please stop yelling at me and wipe that ugly frown from your forehead? You're giving me a headache and it's not even 9 yet."

"I'm not yelling," I said in a lower tone, my frown deepening. "I'm just scolding you."

"Yeah, well stop with the scolding already," she replied, stepping past me. "Look away and think of Edward or something."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Later that day, I was taking a long, relaxing shower when I heard the faint ringtone of my phone. The sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway and shortly after Angela yelled at me, "It's Edward!"

"Don't answer!" I yelled back. "I'll call him back when I get out."

Seconds later I heard her voice as clearly as if she was standing right next to me.

"Hey, Edward," she said in a sugary voice, and I stopped what I was doing, realizing she was just outside the bathroom. "Bella's in the shower. Naked."

I groaned, stopping myself from screaming at her to hang up.

There was a long silence, and I turned off the water, thinking she must have gone elsewhere. I stood there, clutching onto the shower curtain and craning my neck towards the door. Just when I thought I wasn't going to hear anything more, Angela spoke again. "Yeah, okay. I'll tell her. Bye."

"I told you not to answer, Angela!" I shouted as soon as I was sure she wasn't on the phone with him anymore.

"He said to call him back when you can," she replied, opening the bathroom door and grinning at me. "Damn, he sure has a sexy phone voice. Can I do him, if you don't plan to any time soon?"

I shook my head and turned the water back on, deciding to ignore her.

I called Edward the moment I stepped out of the bathroom, and he asked me if I was able to be at his place by five. I told him yes, and then hung up, glancing at the clock and realizing I had only an hour and a half to get there. Quickly, I made my way to my bedroom, opening my closet and starting to scan the clothes. I heard Angela sauntering towards where I stood. She draped an arm across my shoulders nonchalantly, joining me in my staring.

"Okay, what should I wear?" I asked.

She looked at me with a smirk. "Anything that's short and slutty. Oh, but wait. You don't own anything short and slutty. You're a nun."

"You know what?" I pushed her arm away. "Get out. I'll pick my clothes myself."

"Oh, no, no, no." She shook her head, putting her arm back on my shoulder. "You need my help on this. Trust me."

"Just so you know, I'm wearing jeans."

"Fine." She sighed, stepping forward and pulling out a low-cut pair of jeans and a light blue sweater I hadn't worn in two years. "Pair these jeans with this sweater," she said, throwing them at me.

I examined the sweater, not really convinced I should wear it. "The cleavage is kind of deep…"

"That's the point. He'll be ogling you all night. Or… your tits."

I raised my eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. "Remind me, why are we friends?"

"Admit it. You'd be lost without me." She winked, walking over to the bed to sit down. "Can I do your make up?"

"No," I answered, starting to strip out of my pajama bottoms and the long-sleeved t-shirt I was wearing.

"Come on. I promise I won't overdo it."

"No, because I won't be wearing anything but mascara and maybe a bit of lip gloss."

She groaned in return. "Lord, give me strength. How do you expect to land a hottie like Edward without at least making an effort?"

"I don't need make up to 'land' him," I said, buttoning up the jeans and making quotes with my fingers. "Besides, it's just a casual evening at his place. It's not like we're going out."

"Can you at least put on a little blush?" she insisted. "You look like Vivien Leigh's ghost."

"Fine," I agreed, putting on a bra and then the sweater. "Was that supposed to be some sort of half-assed compliment?"

She shrugged. "You kind of look like her. Classic beauty and all that crap. When you make an effort, that is."

"Aww." I smiled at her, extending my arms. "Come here."

I closed the gap between us and leaned down to give her a hug.

"Now, don't you get all sentimental on me." She chuckled, squeezing me back. Then she let go of me and smacked my ass. "Okay, get moving. It's time you put this sexy ass to good use and show that pretentious prick who's the boss." I narrowed my eyes at her, and she added amused, "No, this time I didn't mean sex, you pervert."

_~~ 0 ~~_

I made it to Edward's place at ten to five. The building was as imposing as the first time I had seen it, standing up to over sixty floors. I pushed against the heavy door and stepped inside, where I was met with a comfortable temperature of at least sixty-eight degrees. The lobby was huge and had a floor covered in expensive white marble. Facing the front door were the stairs and to the right there were two doors, one of which I knew led to the building's garage. On the left was the elevator, and in the middle of the room, instead of the large round table and the tall vase with flowers I had seen back in November was a gorgeous Christmas tree.

I headed over to the familiar doorman sitting at his desk and smiled. He raised his head from the newspaper he was reading and responded with a smile of his own. I noticed a beautiful, lively-colored Poinsettia lying next to his cup of tea and stole an admiring glance at it.

"Hello," I greeted, turning my attention back to him.

He nodded. "Good evening, Miss."

"I'm here to see Mr. Cullen."

"Are you Miss Swan?"

"Yes," I confirmed.

"25th floor, door 195. It's the third one on the left," he explained patiently, even though I remembered very well where Edward lived. "Mr. Cullen is expecting you."

"Thank you," I said, already heading towards the elevator.

"You're welcome."

While in the elevator, I made sure to reapply lipstick. It was a light red color and Angela had forced me to wear it, saying it made my lips look fuller. I stopped in front of Edward's door and ran my hands through my loose hair a couple of times, then rang the doorbell.

I waited nervously, and seconds later the door flung open, revealing a beaming Jessica.

"Hey, Jess," I smiled down at her.

"Bella!" she shrieked, throwing herself at me. I chuckled, hugging her back. "You smell nice," she noticed, pulling away from me.

"Thanks," I said, stepping inside. I was wearing my best perfume which had cost me seventy dollars a bottle. It had made a little gap in my budget at the time, but it was all worth it. "Where's your uncle?"

"In the kitchen," she replied. "Susan is making us homemade pizza."

I frowned, starting to take off my coat. "Who's Susan?"

"Uncle Eddie's cook."

"Oh," I let out a breath of relief. I admit I almost got worried for a second.

"Come." She grabbed my hand, starting to pull me down the hallway. "Bella's here!"

Edward came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. He was wearing jeans and a green t-shirt, his feet bare. His hair, usually so perfectly combed was now a bit disheveled, and he was sporting the traces of a five o'clock shadow. To say he looked good would be a gross understatement.

"Hi," he greeted with a smile. He walked towards me, and to my complete bewilderment, he put his right hand on my waist and with a light squeeze he leaned down to kiss my cheek.

I think I may have swooned.

"Hi," I said back, grinning like a fool. "Smells good in here."

"Homemade pizza," he replied, his hand moving to the small of my back as he guided me into the kitchen.

"Yeah, I heard," I said, a bit distracted by the fact that he was touching me.

As we stepped into the room, my eyes fell on a woman standing at the kitchen island, sprinkling sliced mushrooms on a large pizza dough.

"Bella, this is Susan. Susan, this is Bella, a friend of mine," Edward made the introductions.

The woman glanced up at me and smiled politely. She looked to be in her late forties, had dark hair pinned up in a ponytail and was wearing one of those white coats you only see chefs wear. I briefly wondered if she was an actual chef. "Nice to meet you."

I nodded. "You too."

"Wine?" Edward asked, letting go of me and walking towards the fridge.

"Sure."

He pulled out two bottles and held them up for me to see. "Red or white?"

"Red goes better with the pizza."

"Red it is," he said, putting the white wine back in the fridge. He uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses. "Ice?" he asked, smirking at me knowingly.

"Yes, please," I said, overly pleased that he had remembered such a trivial detail.

He handed me the glass, and I took it from him, peering up at him through my lashes. Yeah, I was flirting. Sue me. In reaction to my flirting, I saw his lips part almost imperceptibly as he stared at me intensely.

"Can I have a cookie?" Jessica's voice cut through the moment we were having like a chainsaw, and we both turned our attention to her. She was sitting on the counter top, looking at us curiously. She might have been thirteen and uninitiated in the games of seduction, but she was not oblivious. I saw the exact moment she realized what was going on. Her eyes met my traitor ones which were probably screaming lust, and the corner of her mouth lifted up like she wanted to say 'gotcha.'

She definitely was too perceptive for her own good. Now, I hoped she had nothing against me hitting on her sexy uncle.

"After dinner," Edward said.

"You're mean," she replied, but she wasn't even looking at him. Her eyes were still trained on me.

"Yeah, I know." Edward sighed exaggeratedly. "I'm downright malicious."

"Whatever." She jumped from the counter and grabbed my hand. "Let's go in the living room, Bella."

Edward followed behind us, and just as I was about to sit next to Jessica on the couch, his arm wrapped around my waist and he guided me as we continued walking. He was starting to make a habit of holding my waist, and I loved it. His arm felt so right coiled around me.

"Come," he said. "I want to show you something."

"Oh?" I inquired, gazing up at him. He was looking straight ahead, probably towards our destination, but I couldn't keep my eyes off him. He was giving me a perfect view of his profile. His jaw was strong with well-defined lines, his nose was straight and manly and his eyelashes seemed to be longer than my mascara coated ones.

He let go of me to open a door, and I had to look and see where he was taking me. Apparently on the balcony. I didn't know skyscrapers even had balconies.

"Wow," I breathed as we stepped into the chilly air. "The view is amazing."

It was more than amazing. It was the coolest thing I had seen in a long time.

Edward smiled, leaning over the railing and taking a sip of his wine. "It's the best thing about living in a condo."

"Have you lived here long?" I inquired, sensing the opportunity to find out more about him.

"About eight months."

I nodded, imitating his posture. "It must have cost a fortune."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I got it at a reasonable price." He was quiet for minute as he looked at the busy street below. Then, all of a sudden, he asked, "How old are you, Isabella?"

"I turned twenty-two in September," I said, watching his expression cautiously and hoping he didn't think I was too young for him to get involved. "You?"

"Thirty-four in June." He turned his head to look at me, and I was surprised to see the same cautious expression I was wearing mirrored on his face. "Does the age difference scare you? Assuming someday there might be something more between us."

"Not really," I answered honestly. "Does it scare you?"

"No," he said immediately, his expression changing to one I couldn't quite categorize. "I think age is irrelevant in a relationship. If it works, it works. If it doesn't, it doesn't. Age has nothing to do with it."

"Good to know," I chuckled relieved. I sipped on my wine as we fell in companionable silence. I glanced to my left where somewhere in the distance I could make out Lake Michigan. It reminded me of the dream I'd had that night, and before I realized what I was doing, I blurted out stupidly, "Do you have a yacht?"

"What?" He laughed, looking perplexed. "No. But my parents do. Why are you asking?"

"No reason." I shrugged, feeling my cheeks warming up.

I could see he was about to insist on the subject, but his phone started ringing at that exact moment, distracting him. He took it out of his pocket and glanced at the screen.

With a heavy sigh, he looked at me apologetically. "Do you mind? I really need to take this."

I waved him off. "Go ahead."

He went back inside, and seconds later Jessica took his spot next to me.

"Nice view, huh?" she said, propping her elbows on the glass railing.

"Yeah," I agreed, glancing at her.

All of the sudden, an idea struck me. It was a devious idea, and I knew I shouldn't have done what I did next, but I couldn't help myself.

"Jess, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

I hesitated for a second before speaking. "What can you tell me about your aunt? You know, Edward's wife."

"She was really nice. Beautiful, too." Jessica sighed with an air of sadness. "Uncle Eddie has photos. You want to see them?"

Even though I felt kind of guilty for extracting info that way, I was stunned that it was so easy to find out things about Edward's wife.

"Yeah."

I followed her inside and sat down as she went to the TV table, opened a drawer and pulled out a heavy photo album.

"This is just one of them," she said, sitting next to me and placing it in my lap. "I don't know where the others are."

With slightly trembling hands, I opened it, nervous that Edward could come back any minute. I was taking the risk of being caught invading his private life, but the curiosity nagging at me was just too big.

The first photo I laid eyes on was of three people sitting at a table somewhere in a garden. Two of them, a man and a woman were in their fifties. They were wearing light summer clothing, their hands clasped on top of the table as the woman seemed to be whispering something in the man's ear. But what had gotten my attention was the third person. I instantly knew it was her. I just knew it. She was young with long strawberry hair gathered in a simple braid and eyes so blue, they rivaled the clear sky on a spring day. Her skin had a slightly tan texture and she was wearing cut-offs paired with a white tank top. She had her feet resting on the edge on the chair under her, and her arms were wrapped around her knees as she smiled at the camera brightly, showing off a pair of perfect white teeth.

She was simply radiant, and I felt a pang of jealousy at the sight of her. I couldn't compete with that.

"That's her," Jessica explained needlessly, pointing at the blonde woman. "Those are her parents."

"Wow," I murmured. "She was gorgeous."

"Yeah. She used to model when she was a teenager."

Of course she did.

"How long were they married?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I think I was three or four when they got married."

"So ten years," I concluded, turning the page.

"I guess."

The next photo was of her and Edward at a party. She was standing with a cocktail in her hand while Edward had his arms circling her from behind. They were smiling at each other and looked like they were about to kiss. They looked so happy.

"When did she die?" I asked, tracing the picture's contour with my finger.

"Last January."

"You know why she died?"

Jessica moved closer to me and lowered her voice when she answered. "My mom didn't want to tell me at first, but I overheard her talking to Dad about it. They were saying Aunt Tanya died of leukemia."

"Oh my God," I whispered, my mind flying to Edward and the pain he had endured in the past. "It must have been terrible seeing his wife go through that."

"Yeah," she murmured, staring at the picture blankly. "I didn't visit much at the time because my mom wouldn't let me, but the funeral was the first time I saw Uncle Eddie cry."

"And they never had any children?" I asked, finding it strange that a man who seemed so inclined to be a father had no children of his own.

"Nah. Uncle Eddie always tells me I'm like the daughter he never had. He would make an awesome dad."

"Yes, he would," I assented with her, closing the album and handing it to her. "Here, you can put this back. And please don't mention I saw it, nor that we spoke about her. I don't want to upset Edward."

"Okay." She got up to return it to its place then sat back down on the leather couch, turning sideways to face me. "He kind of _is_ a little… jumpy when someone mentions Aunt Tanya or the fact that he's a widower." She looked over her shoulder, then leaned towards me, lowering her voice secretively, "A few months ago, Grandma tried to shove Lauren Mallory at him, and he had a fit."

This definitely piqued my interest. "Who's Lauren Mallory," I inquired as secretively.

"Some lady. She's really conceited and stuff. No one likes her. Well, except for Grandma." She rolled her eyes, chuckling.

"Huh." I contemplated for a moment, knowing for a fact that mothers who tried to set up their sons were the worst mother-in-laws. "Is your Grandma nice?"

"Not really," she said flatly, scrunching her nose. "Grandpa is a lot nicer than her."

_Count on a child to tell the truth in a situation __where an adult would try to be diplomatic…_

Deciding it was enough information for one day and eager to change the subject before Edward showed up, I smiled at Jessica, playing with her ponytail. "So, Jess. When is your birthday? I don't want to miss it."

She grinned, her face lighting up. "The 8th of April."

"I think I have the perfect gift for you," I said, thinking of a book I had stumbled upon a few days before.

"What is it?" she pressed.

"It's a surprise."

"Okay. I like surprises."

"So, you're going to be fourteen, huh?"

"Yeah." She sighed, making a face. "I'm getting old."

I started laughing, pulling on her ponytail playfully. "If you're old, I'm ancient."

We chatted for a few more minutes about random things. At some point, her attention was distracted by a movie starting on TV and we were both quiet as we watched it.

Unexpectedly, Jessica spoke again, her gaze still on the TV, "By the way, I have nothing against you being my new aunt. Just wanted to let you know."

My eyes widened and I felt my face go red with embarrassment. When she noticed I wasn't saying anything, she glanced at me. She started laughing and was about to open her mouth again when Edward returned.

"You two seem to be having fun without me," he noticed with a smile, blissfully oblivious to his niece's previous comment.

"We are," Jessica replied merrily.

"Scoot over," he said to her as he squeezed in between us. He draped his long arms on the back of the couch behind our shoulders, then leaned to whisper in my ear. "Sorry it took so long."

"It's okay," I mumbled mortified, peering at Jessica and seeing her waggling her eyebrows at me.

Satisfied, Edward turned his attention to the TV. "What are we watching?"

I shook my head at Jessica, and she rolled her eyes at me. This was one awkward silent conversation we were having.

_Marry him!_

_No, I can't! _

_Chicken!_

Or something like that.

When I realized I hadn't answered Edward's question, I looked back at the TV and cleared my throat. "Uh… the Adams family?"

_~~ 0 ~~_

"Time to get you home, Jess," Edward said, glancing at his watch.

"Already?" she whined from where she was lying on the rug, watching the end of the movie.

"It's after nine, kiddo. You have school tomorrow."

"Fine," she sighed, getting up. "I'll go get dressed."

"I should get going, too," I said, placing my glass on the coffee table and rising to my feet. I pointed to the dirty plates still lying around and asked, "You need help with these?"

"No, leave them. I'll take care of them later," he answered. "Did you drive here?"

"No, I took a cab."

"Then you're coming with us. I'll drop Jessica off, then you."

I shook my head. "You don't have to do that."

"Yes, I do," he insisted, giving me that look that said he was not to argue with.

Half an hour later, Edward was dropping Jessica in front of a house that screamed 'rich people.' She said good bye and gave me a hug before bolting out of the car and heading inside. Then, just as promised, we were heading towards my apartment. We made light conversation on the twenty minute drive, and by the time we made it to our destination, I was reluctant to let him leave. We both had to work the next day, but I wished I could have a little more time in his company.

"Well, thanks for driving me home," I said, toying with my coat's top button.

"You have nothing to thank me for," he said gently.

"So… I'll see you?"

He nodded. "Soon."

"Okay."

He leaned down to kiss my cheek like he had done earlier that day. I don't know what possessed me to do it, but just before his lips touched my cheek, I turned my head so they landed on my mouth.

Surprised, he pulled back a few inches, just staring at me like he was trying to decipher something on my face.

With new found determination, I cupped his cheeks in the same fashion he had the other day and pressed my lips against his once again. This time he didn't pull back. Instead, he grabbed my hips and dragged me closer to him as he deepened the kiss.

I closed my eyes and let myself feel it. It was passionate, stomach-twisting, butterflies-giving, panty-dropping and everything else a first kiss could be. I slid my arms around his neck and let out a soft moan to which he answered with a low grunt, pulling me impossibly close.

He was the one to break it. Letting go of me, he leaned back into his seat and panted lightly, running a hand over his face.

I was afraid I might have upset him and was about to apologize when he turned his head and smiled.

I sighed relieved.

Yeah, we were good.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**** So? What did you think?**

**See ya next time! **

**~Andreea~**


	10. Chapter 9: Evasive

**A/N I just want to clarify one tiny detail first. If Bella sometimes seems focused on Edward's wealth it's not because she's after his money, but because she feels so inferior to him.**

**Also, I want to thank everyone who has pimped thi****s story in the last week. Thank you so much! You don't know what it means to me.**

**And last, but not least, I want to thank my lovely beta, Nikki. I really don't know what I would do without her.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

**Edward Pov**

* * *

><p><em>~ December 16<em>_th__, 2011~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

"_We'__ll get over this," I said, taking the whiskey glass to my lips and downing the entire content. "Eventually."_

_Tanya shook her head, her voice trembling as she continued chopping vegetables furiously. __"How are we going to do that, Edward?" she asked, not raising her eyes to look at me. "We both know how much you wanted to be a father. God, I don't even want to imagine what your parents are going to think. Your mother…"_

"_I don't give a fuck about what my mother thinks," I snapped incensed, slamming the glass on the table and making her jump startled. "It's our life and she has no say in it."_

_There was a long, somber pause in which only the sound of the sharp knife hitting the chopping board could be heard. __"This is going to break us," she spoke again, her voice disconsolate. "I know it."_

_I sighed, running a hand through my hair roughly. __"We can always adopt…"_

"_It wouldn't be the same," she protested, dropping the knife on the kitchen island and looking at me with watery eyes. "I've failed you. I can't even call myself a woman anymore."_

_Her words hit me harder than she could have ever known.__ It hurt me that her inability to fulfill my ardent desire to have children was tormenting her like that. I rose to me feet and rushed to her side, enveloping her in my arms. "Hey," I murmured, kissing her forehead comfortingly. "Don't talk like that. I'll always love you, no matter what. We'll adopt and that's that."_

"_I'm sorry," she sobbed; the sound tearing through my heart like a hot dagger. " I'm so sorry."_

"_Yana…" I said softly, using the nickname she used to love so much because it reminded her of her grandmother. "We're going to be okay. I promise you."_

"_Ya lyublyu tebya," she replied in Russian, like she always did when she wanted to accentuate how much she loved me._ "_Promise me you'll never leave me."_

"_I'll never leave yo__u," I promised solemnly. "I swear it." _

_Little did she know that in the end she'd be the one leaving me._

I woke up sweaty and disoriented, my heart beating erratically in my chest. I sat up in bed and glanced around. I realized I was in my bedroom and I had just had a dream. I fumbled with my hand on the nightstand for my phone and checked the time.

Two-fifty a.m.

With a heavy sigh, I threw the comforter to the side and got out of bed, heading straight to the floor-to-ceiling window. Crossing my arms over my chest, I took in the quiet city in front of me.

It wasn't unusual for me to dream about Tanya; she was always at the back of my mind. What I found strange was the veracity of the dream. It was the exact same scene that had happened almost three years prior when we found out she couldn't get pregnant. That decisive day when fate, ruthless captain, changed the smooth, uneventful course of our lives to sail paths full of violent storms that would mark us forever. Everything after that went downhill. The communication between us became nonexistent; slowly but surely we broke ties with most our married friends; we distanced ourselves from our families; in time, even our intimacy was affected.

For a long time, even after Tanya's death, I stubbornly stuck to the idea that eventually we could have fixed our severely damaged marriage.

Now I knew better.

We were damaged beyond repair.

_~~ 0 ~~_

I was distracted by the sudden shrill of my phone. Frowning and quite displeased by the interruption, I put down the document I was reading and glanced at the screen to see my brother's name flashing furiously and demanding for attention.

With a sigh, I took off my glasses and brought the phone to my ear, taking the call.

"Yes, Jasper?"

"Hey, bro," he said, his voice breathless, and I knew he had probably just finished his daily morning jog. "How's it going?"

"I'm at work," I replied, not really in the mod for chatting. "Did you want something?"

"Emmett and I are going out tonight. You wanna come along?"

There was a knock on the door, and a moment later, Victoria's head peeked from behind it. She waved the blue file she was holding, and in return I held out my left hand. She stepped inside and approached my desk, handing me the file.

"Well, if you're going clubbing don't count on me," I replied in the receiver, and I saw Victoria smirk at me.

She was wearing her usual too short skirt and a blouse with revealing cleavage. I gave her the once over, making a point to narrow my eyes when they met hers. Her smirk morphed into an innocent smile as she shrugged one shoulder, turned around and hurried out of my office.

I shook my head at her departing form disapprovingly.

"No, no clubbing tonight," Jasper answered with a low snicker. "Emmett's too old for that. We're just going to have a few drinks and maybe play some pool."

"Pool sounds… interesting," I said, opening the file and leaning back into my chair. "I haven't played in a while."

"So, you're in?" He was clearly pleased.

"Yes, I'm in," I said distractedly, my eyes pouring through the pages. "Is it going to be just the three of us, or are the girls coming, also?" I was referring to his long-time girlfriend Alice and Emmett's wife Rosalie.

"No, just the three of us. It's guys' night out."

I nodded to myself. "Alright. Where should I meet you?"

"I'll pick you up. Be ready by eight."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Later that day, I was still in my office when my cell phone rang for the second time. Thinking it was Jasper again, calling to change the hour, I ignored it, making a mental note to call him back in the afternoon. A minute later, it stopped ringing, allowing me to concentrate better on what I was doing.

Sometime later, my father came to ask me to have lunch with him and an important client. We went to a nearby restaurant, and by the time I made it back three hours had passed.

I was about to get back to work, when I remembered I hadn't returned Jasper's call. Reaching into my suit's pocket, I pulled out my phone and was surprised to see a missed call from Isabella instead of my brother.

I found myself smiling widely as I started pushing buttons eagerly.

I hadn't seen her since last weekend when she joined Jess and me for homemade pizza, but we had talked on the phone everyday. Usually, we spoke in the evenings, but today it seemed she had something to tell me that couldn't wait until after work.

She answered on the second ring.

"Isabella," I uttered, my voice warm and with a hint of seduction.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Cullen," she replied playfully.

I chuckled. "To what do I owe the pleasure of a missed call, Ms. Swan?"

"Well, tonight's the premiere of a movie I've be waiting to see for a long time, and I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me? I promise it's not a chick flick."

"I love chick flicks," I said teasingly, letting out a short laugh. "Unfortunately, I already made plans with my brothers…" I trailed off, and when she didn't reply immediately, I rushed to add, "…but, I can cancel."

"Oh. No, no," she said quickly, but I could tell she was disappointed. "If you already made plans…"

"I don't mind canceling them for you," I said truthfully, preferring to spend time with her instead with my brothers.

"No, it's okay," she assured me. "Can I ask what those plans involve?"

"I'm not sure. Jasper mentioned something about playing pool."

"Sounds like fun."

"Yeah…" I sighed, wishing she'd insisted I go with her instead. "We can go to the movies tomorrow if you'd like."

"Okay." The smile in her voice was audible. "I'd like that."

"I'll call you tomorrow then."

We hung up, and I turned in my chair to glance out the window, suddenly not in the mood for work anymore.

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

_~~ 0 ~~_

The bar was packed, much like every other social gathering place in Chicago on a Friday night.

The décor was very modern, almost cubist, reminiscing of the great, highly influential visual art styles of the early twentieth century. The walls, the tile floor, the ceiling, the long bar, the tall stools, the low round tables, the plush chairs; everything was an immaculate white, carefully balanced by the neon purple of the spotlights implanted in the ceiling and the light blue of the pool tables.

The walls were adorned by framed pictures imitating masterpieces by Picasso, the father of the two-dimensionality of the canvas. I recognized _Guernica, Blue Nude, Three musicians _and_ Card Player_ among others just as important.

In other words, it was a great place to have a few overpriced drinks, listen to decent music and spend a pleasant evening in good company.

I took a sip of my Guinness and placed the bottle on our nearby table, turning my attention back to the pool game. Surveying the scattered balls attentively, I finally settled on number nine. Leaning over the table, I held the cue stick with my right hand, guiding it with my left one. I focused on the targeted ball, drew my hand back and shot forcefully, missing the hole by half an inch.

Emmett, who up until that moment had been quiet, started laughing.

"You suck at this," he said merrily, starting to circle the table in anticipation of his next shot.

I sighed, taking a few steps back to give him room and grabbed the beer bottle, bringing it to my lips. "Yeah, I'm a little rusty," I admitted, watching him lean over the table with a look of pure concentration on his face.

His shot was perfect, causing ball number six to fly straight into the hole.

"Yes!" he cried excitedly, spinning around to grin at me in a very self-satisfied manner.

I rolled my eyes at his child-like enthusiasm. Deciding to ignore the gall of the imminent defeat rolling off of me, he turned his back to me, stalking for another ball.

"You know," Jasper spoke from where he was seated at the table, his eyes following Emmett with interest. "Mom complained that you haven't joined the Saturday family dinners in a while."

I knew that even though he wasn't looking at me, I was the one he was addressing.

I shrugged, taking another sip of beer. "I didn't feel like hearing her praise Lauren Mallory, and not only that, but also trying to shove her down my throat."

"She's hot," Emmett chimed in, waggling his eyebrows suggestively at me.

"And?" I muttered, miffed. "You think everything reduces to physical appearance? I can't stand the woman."

In my peripheral, I could see Jasper nod his head approvingly.

Emmett however suddenly straightened up, planting his cue stick firmly into the floor as he leaned into it. "Speaking of women…" he said, staring at me intently. "Who is this Bella I keep hearing about from Jessica?"

I flinched at the mention of Isabella. I should have known Jessica was going to eventually tell her parents about her, but the question still took me by surprise. I searched my mind for an appropriate answer, finally coming up with, "She's a friend."

For a long moment Emmett regarded me suspiciously. "A friend," he repeated, staring me down and trying to intimidate the truth out of me. When I simply nodded, he sighed in frustration. "Would you like to elaborate?"

"No," I said stoically, refusing to give him details of my personal life. Whatever it was that we had, it was between me and Isabella. At least for now.

"Look, Edward." Emmett frowned, moving the cue stick to the pool table, so he could put his hands akimbo; a position that demanded attention. " I don't mean to intrude in your personal life, but I think I have the right to know who is this woman my daughter has suddenly grown so attached to. All I heard last Sunday evening was… Bella this… Bella that. Who is this Bella? And most importantly, why won't you talk about her? I see you everyday at work, but you've never mentioned her. Not even once."

I groaned softly, starting to get annoyed with his 'I'm your big brother and you have to tell me the truth' attitude. "I told you, Emmett. She's just a friend."

"Is she one of those… friends with benefits?" he asked in a low voice, getting closer.

"No," I replied sharply. "Of course not."

He didn't seem convinced. "Just…" He put his large hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Be careful who you get involved with."

I shrugged his hand off, my temper starting to get the best of me. "I'm not a fucking child, Emmett," I spat, seething. "I don't need you to tell me how to live me life."

At my unexpected reaction, he took a step back, looking bewildered. "Why are you being so defensive?" Then, as if having a revelation, his eyes widened slightly. "Is she some kind of junkie? Has she been in prison?"

I wanted to laugh at the absurdness of his deduction, but instead I let out a snort. "You're being ridiculous."

"Then, what's the problem?" he insisted.

"I told you, I don't want to discuss my personal life with you," I said sternly, walking over to one of the plush chairs and taking a seat next to Jasper. I crossed my arms over my chest and stared up at Emmett defiantly.

"Fine," he assented, turning back to the game. "I'll just ask Jess."

"Do whatever you like," I muttered sulkingly, grabbing my bottle and downing the rest of the beer.

"Are we done talking about this Bella chick?" Jasper interfered, glancing at me apprehensively.

"Yes," I said.

Emmet didn't answer. He was looking down at the pool table, seeming deep in thought.

I sighed heavily, turning my head to my right and away from both my brothers. There, sitting at the bar and scanning the crowd was a cute brunette. She reminded me of Isabella, and I found myself staring at her for a long while.

It wasn't that I didn't want my family to know about Isabella, but I just had a feeling this wasn't the right time yet. There was something inside me –my intuition maybe- that told me I needed to keep her away from them for the time being.

Besides, I wasn't even sure what the future had in store for Isabella and me. Maybe we weren't even destined to have more than a simple friendship.

At some point the brunette's eyes met mine, and she smiled invitingly. However, it was the wrong smile, definitely not the one I was looking for. It wasn't soft and slightly crooked, revealing the ghost of a dimple in her left cheek, but rather wide, showing off a pair of blindingly white, fake teeth.

All of a sudden, I felt as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice cold water over my head, waking me out of my reverie, and I quickly looked in the opposite direction, frowning when I met the disapproving stare of my brother.

_~~ 0 ~~_

I didn't sleep well that night. I kept tossing and turning, dreams of Isabella plaguing my slumber. I was restless, dozing off for short periods of time, only to wake up brusquely and stare at the ceiling before changing my position in an attempt to get my much needed sleep.

It was as if I was in some sort of suspended consciousness, a light _Svapna_, alternating between _Jagrat_ and _Sushupti, _but never actually reaching the desired unconsciousness that causes the brain to enter the sleep mode and the body to fall in a state of deep relaxation.

It was five-thirty in the morning when I got out of the bed, feeling neither tired nor rested. I used the bathroom, then headed into the kitchen for a glass of water. I returned with the water and lay down, deciding to turn on the TV to serve as a distraction.

Eventually, I got bored and started pacing the room. I went back into the kitchen, this time to make coffee. When it was ready, I headed over to the balcony. Leaning over the glass railing, I enjoyed the warm liquid that contrasted with the cold air surrounding me. It was still dark outside, but the traffic below gave no indication that most of the Chicagoans were very much asleep.

Then I started feeling a sudden need for physical exercise. I wanted to run, but not inside on a pathetic treadmill. I wanted to run in the park and feel the cold. I wanted to fill my lungs with the fresh air of nature, not the stale one that lingered in my home.

The urge to call Isabella and ask her to run with me was growing stronger and stronger, and by the time half an hour of debating with myself had passed, I had made up my mind.

"Edward?" she answered in a hoarse voice, sounding confused and a little panicked.

"Morning," I greeted cheerfully, already heading into my bedroom to change clothes.

"Uh, morning. Why are you calling at this hour? Did something happen?"

"No." I smiled reassuringly, even though she couldn't see me. "I just woke up earlier than I would have liked to and was wondering… do you still run in the park?"

She cleared her throat, trying to get her voice to work properly. "Yeah. Angela usually makes me, but today she's working, so she's sleeping in."

"Excellent." I opened one of the drawers, pulling out a pair of socks. "I'll run with you."

"What?"

"Get dressed. I'll be over in twenty minutes."

"Are you serious?" Her tone denoted she probably thought I was crazy.

"Very. Get dressed." I hung up, not giving her the change to argue back.

Just as promised, twenty minutes later and two large paper cups of coffee purchased, I was standing in front of her apartment door. I reached out and rang the doorbell, and shortly after I was looking at a half-asleep Isabella.

"I have coffee," I said, holding one of the cups to her as a peace offering.

She let out a weak moan, grabbing the cup greedily and ushering me inside. "Thank God."

I chuckled, taking in her disheveled hair that had yet to be brushed. "It was the least I could do for waking you up at six thirty a.m."

She peered up at me, the corner of her mouth lifting up. "You _could_ have waited until seven or eight."

"You're not a morning person, are you?" I observed as she swallowed the caffeine in large gulps.

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Obviously. How about you?"

"Unfortunately for you, I am."

She took a few more sips of coffee then disappeared in her room for a minute, coming back with her hair pinned up in a ponytail.

"Hold this," she said, handing me the paper cup. "I need to put on my running shoes."

As she crunched down to tie the shoelaces, her tight yoga pants slid down her hips, revealing the black cotton thong she was wearing. I swallowed thickly and stared rudely, unable to tear my gaze away. She was all woman, her natural curves only accentuated by the simple piece of lingerie, and that didn't escape my notice. A few inappropriate thoughts crossed my mind, but I brushed them off quickly when she stood up and grabbed her down vest, throwing it over the hoodie she had on. I smiled at the similarity of our outfits.

"I can't believe I agreed to this," she muttered in the elevator, glaring up at me. "I could have still been in my warm, cozy bed. Very much asleep."

"Quit whining." I laughed, placing my arm around her shoulders. "Exercise is good for you."

She shrugged and leaned into me. "I thought you had a treadmill at home. Why not just run on it?"

"I wanted to run with you," I answered simply, speaking the truth.

Her expression softened immediately. She smiled sweetly, biting down on her lower lip. "Okay. You're forgiven."

"Forgiven?" I raised an eyebrow questioningly. "For what?"

"For dragging me out of bed in this weather and especially at this hour."

I chuckled at the pointed look she was giving me. The doors to the elevator opened, and we stepped out, heading for the front entrance, my arm still around her.

An old lady wearing a thick, plaid robe was standing in front of the built-in-the-wall mailbox. When she saw us approaching, her eyes darted between the two of us, smiling when they met Isabella. She locked her mailbox, turning around to face us.

"Good morning, Mrs. Harris," Isabella greeted politely.

"Good morning, Bella dear," she replied, curiously staring at my hand that was resting on Isabella's shoulder blade. "Where are you off to this early in the morning?"

Isabella sighed sufferingly, gesturing towards her outfit. "To the park to run."

The woman nodded, her clear blue aging eyes moving up to study my face. "And who's this handsome young man? I think I've seen him before."

"Yes." Isabella smiled at me. "This is my friend Edward."

"Nice to meet you," I said, and Mrs. Harris nodded again, this time in acknowledgement as she started walking past us. She chuckled quietly, as to herself, making sure to add over her shoulder, "He's a lot better looking than the other one."

I turned to Isabella with a frown. "What did she mean, 'the other one'?"

She started walking, and I followed, opening the door for her as we stepped into the cold winter air. "Oh, um… my ex boyfriend."

"Should I feel flattered?" I asked teasingly as we walked side by side at a leisurely pace, and she rolled her eyes at me in response.

A few feet ahead there was a garbage bin, and I tossed my now empty cup inside. I pulled out a pair of gloves from my down vest and put them on, burying my hands into my sweat pants' front pockets to keep them warm.

"So how long had you been together?" I continued, my curiosity getting the best of me.

"A couple of years," she replied, linking her right arm with my left one. It was a trivial, insignificant gesture, but it pleased me more than I cared to admit.

I went on with my interrogation. "Why did you break up?"

Taking another sip of coffee, she seemed to be contemplating her answer for a brief moment. "We wanted different things."

"Such as?"

She was staring into the distance, reminiscing bygone times. "He wanted us to move in together; I didn't."

"In other words, he was ready for the next step and you weren't," I concluded.

"Exactly."

"I remember the same thing happened to me in freshman year at Yale. I had been with my girlfriend for a few months, and one day she asked me to move in with her. I broke up with her as soon as the words left her mouth."

"Wow," she breathed, looking half-shocked half-amused. "Why?"

"I wasn't ready," I said with a shrug. "Besides, I was a conceited prick. I knew I could have whichever girl I wanted."

"Hmmm," she hummed, grinning at me knowingly. "You were a real peach, weren't you?"

"Yeah. I was insufferable," I confessed. "But that's in the past. I've come a long way since then."

She nudged me playfully. "Good to know."

With that, the subject was closed. We reached my car, which I had to park a block away, and we got inside, heading towards the park.

To my surprise, once we got there, I noticed we weren't the only crazy ones running at seven a.m. on a freezing December morning.

Isabella didn't even wait for the usual warm up. She kept bouncing from one foot to the other, and as soon as we entered the park, she covered her head with the hood and started running like the cold was chasing her. With a chuckle, I did the same, sprinting to catch up to her.

"I need a break," she panted sometime later, slowing down to a light jog.

"Already?" I breathed heavily, checking my watch.

She stopped abruptly, putting her hands on her hips. "What do you mean already?" She frowned at me, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "We've been circling the park for almost forty minutes."

I shook my head disapprovingly, coming to stand next to her. "You need to build up your resistance."

Her eyes widened in horror. "I've only started running a few months ago, Edward. And I don't even do it every week. You on the other hand…" She waved her hand in my general direction, "… have been exercising for years."

"How about you exercise with me?" I suggested automatically, not really thinking about it.

"You mean at the gym you go to?" she asked breathlessly, wiping the sweat of her forehead with the hoodie's sleeve.

"Yes. Does the idea appeal to you?" It definitely appealed to me. A lot.

Isabella contemplated briefly before answering. "Yeah… okay. I need to get a gym membership, right?"

"I'll take care of it," I offered, pleased at the prospect of having a gym partner; especially since it was her. "I usually go on Tuesdays and Thursdays, sometimes on Saturdays too."

"In the morning or in the evening? You know I'm not a morning person."

"In the evening. I go straight from work."

"Okay." She smiled, starting to fan herself with her hands. "But right now I need to sit down or my legs are going to give up on me."

"Come." I held my gloved hand to her, and she took it as I guided her to a nearby bench.

"Ahhh," she exhaled contently, pulling her feet underneath her as she let her head fall back. "So good."

I sat down next to her, extending my arms on the back of the bench and my legs on the asphalt in front of me. "Do you still want to go to the movies?" I asked uncertain, glancing at her sideways.

"Only if you want to," she replied, pulling out a pack of tissues and blowing her nose quietly.

"I do," I said, sniffing. "I haven't gone to the movies in… over two years, I think."

She offered me a tissue, and I took it gratefully. "Really?"

"Yes. I've been busy with work, then Tanya died… I just didn't have the time or desire to go." Only when I was done talking had I realized I had mentioned Tanya. It was strange, since I rarely did so. Even in the presence of my family I preferred not to bring her up because of the memories the simple mention of her name evoked in me. But with Isabella, conversation was flowing so easily, the words were simply pouring out of me.

I expected her to inquire about Tanya, but she didn't. Instead, she seemed focused on a young woman walking a Retriever dog.

"Can we go?" She turned to me pleadingly a few minutes later. "I'm exhausted and really really hungry."

"Yeah." I rose to my feet immediately, helping her up. "I'm pretty famished, too. How about we have breakfast at my place since it's closest? I know how to make an omelet."

"Okay," she said tentatively. "As long as you don't give me food poison…"

I laughed heartedly, leaning down to whisper in her ear jokingly. "I might burn the place down first."

_~~ 0 ~~_

"Do you mind if I take a shower first?" I called from the bathroom where I was currently washing my hands. Glancing in the mirror above the sink, I saw my hair plastered on my forehead with sweat, and I ran a wet hand through it, making it stand up.

A quiet chuckle came from the doorway, and I glanced in that direction to see Isabella looking at me amusedly. "No," she said. "Although, I'd like one, too. I stink."

"You can have one," I replied, grabbing the hem of my thick hoodie and pulling it over my head. "I have two bathrooms."

I tossed the piece of clothing in the hamper and looked up to see Isabella staring at the damp t-shirt that was sticking to my skin tightly.

"No, I don't have anything to change into," she refused, averting her eyes quickly.

"I can give you something of mine," I offered, but she shook her head.

"It's okay. I can wait until I get home." Then she added mischievously, "You'll just have to deal with the smell."

"I won't be long," I snickered, pulling my t-shirt off. She closed the door to give me privacy, and I heard her light footsteps as she walked away.

I had planned on taking a short shower, not wanting to leave her alone for too long. However, as soon as I stepped under the hot spray, my entire body started relaxing. So, the first five minutes I spent with my hands on the wall, letting the soothing water cascade over me. By the time it was over, a good fifteen minutes must have passed. I headed into my bedroom to put on some clean clothes, then headed over to the kitchen, thinking I was going to find Isabella there.

There was no sign of Isabella in the kitchen, and I walked towards the living room, where I found her lying on the couch. The TV was on, and I thought she was watching it, but as I got closer, I saw she had her eyes closed.

For a moment I just stood, watching her sleep. She wasn't wearing any make up, her ponytail was hanging loose and she was still a bit sweaty from our earlier activities, but I found her more attractive than ever. She was simply beautiful, and it was getting harder and harder not to notice it. I let my gaze travel down her body, and I felt like a pervert for ogling her while she was unconscious, but I couldn't help it. There she was, all woman, lying innocently on my couch in her tight yoga pants and a thin wifebeater that revealed slivers of her bra on the sides. It was maddening, having her there and not being able to touch her the way I had the urge to.

No, we weren't ready for that yet. Neither one of us was.

She looked so peaceful, I had a hard time finding it in me to wake her up. But, I knew she had been hungry, and I didn't want her to skip breakfast. I kneeled next to the couch, debating on what to do.

"Isabella," I murmured softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face. She stirred up, peering at me through narrowed slits. "Hey. You fell asleep."

"Mmhmm." She sighed heavily, turning to face away from me.

I rubbed her upper arm, leaning over her to whisper in her ear. "I thought you were hungry."

"Mmhmm," she hummed again, weakly swatting at me over her shoulder. "One more minute."

Giving up, I got to my feet, deciding to let her rest. I was still hungry, so I went back into the kitchen to make myself a sandwich. I ate, made some more coffee, then headed to my study, leaving the door open in case she woke up. I stayed there for a few hours, working. Around eleven thirty, Susan showed up. She asked me what I wanted for lunch, and I told her to make whatever she liked, letting her know she had to cook for two.

Hours later, I was stepping out of the study, when I almost collided with a sleepy Isabella.

"Well, well." I smirked at her. "Look who's up."

She groaned softly, rubbing her hands over her face. "I'm so sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" I asked, confused.

"For falling asleep on your couch like that."

"I don't mind," I assured her.

She nodded, but didn't seem convinced. "What time is it?"

I glanced at my watch. "Seven minutes past one." Wanting to make sure she wasn't thinking about leaving yet, I added, "Susan is here. She's making steaks."

"Oh." Her face lit up like a Christmas three. "I'm starving."

"I tried to wake you," I said in my defense, holding my hands up.

"Yeah?" She frowned.

"You don't remember?"

"No."

I chuckled, and she smiled sheepishly. "I need to use the bathroom."

"You know where it is," I said, gesturing in that direction.

As soon as she was out of sight, my cell phone started ringing. Pulling it out of my pocket, I saw my mother's number and let out a frustrated groan.

"Yes, mother?" I answered, not bothering to hide the annoyance in my voice.

"Hello, dear," she said sweetly, pretending not to notice my tone. "How are you?"

"I'm working on a case," I lied. "Did you need something?"

There was a pregnant pause on the other side of the line before she continued, "I wanted to know if you're joining us for dinner this evening."

"I can't," I lied again, feeling no remorse whatsoever. "I'm meeting a client for dinner."

"On a Saturday?" she asked, an edge to her voice.

"Yes."

"Edward…"

I knew she was about to start lecturing me, so I cut her off before she had the chance. "I'll come by tomorrow."

"Fine," she assented, audibly displeased.

"I have to go now."

I didn't even wait for her to say goodbye. Isabella was coming out of the bathroom, and I hung up, shoving the phone back into my pocket.

"Work?" she inquired.

"My mother," I clarified, not going into details. "Are you ready to have lunch?"

She grinned in return. "Yes, please."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Later that evening Isabella and I were coming out of the movie theater. She still had the half-full bag of popcorn in hand, and she passed it to me, scrunching her nose. I took it from her and tossed it in the nearest trashcan as we walked unhurriedly through the busy mall.

"So, what did you think of the movie?" she asked, linking her arm with mine like she had done earlier that morning. She was wearing a pair of boots with hight heels that made her much taller, so that the top of her head reached my chin. Our arms still linked, I made a bold gesture, daring to take her hand in mine and guiding them both into my pocket.

"It was nice," I answered distractedly, hoping she didn't think I was too forward. I just felt the need for more physical contact.

Isabella glanced down and smiled, then looked back up. "Just nice?"

"Okay, it was pretty good," I admitted chuckling, relieved that she was okay with it.

She went on talking, telling me what she had enjoyed most about the movie, but I wasn't listening to her anymore. My eyes met a pair of familiar blue ones, and I stopped walking abruptly, halting Isabella with me.

There, only feet away, clutching his girlfriend's small hand, numbly stood Jasper.

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><p><strong>AN ****In case you didn't know, Jagrat, Svapna and Sushupti are the three phases of consciousness: waking, dreaming and dreamless sleep.**

**You can now find me on twitter at DeeutzaT.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~Andreea~**


	11. Chapter 10: Cordial

**A/N Thank you so much for your lovely reviews! I hope I replied to all of them!**

**I also want to thank**** whomever recommended TPB for The Lemonade Stand. I really appreciate it :)**

**Sigvard Oscar and Michael Sigvard are both real; I just took some liberties with their lives…**

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

**Isabella Pov**

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><p><em>~ December 17<em>_th__, 2011 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

I was happy.

No, actually, I was beyond happy. Happiness was for mere mortals. I, on the other hand was floating on cloud nine, a deep feeling of euphoria lifting my spirit off the terrestrial Earth and guiding it towards the infinite sky. My elation had taken Aphroditian proportions. Just like the famous Greek Goddess of love, I felt invincible in my recently rediscovered sexuality. And it was all thanks to the man walking next to me. Edward not only made me feel beautiful, but he had also succeeded –intentionally or not- to awaken the long time dormant dragon of lust and eroticism.

His nearness made me weak in the knees. A single glance of his forest-green eyes spared in my direction, and I suddenly found it difficult to breathe. His soft lips wrapping around mine for even a brief second had the power to make me forget my own name. And when he was holding my hand like that… so carefree and yet so secretively intimate, the smoldering fire burning quietly inside of me was growing to arson amplitude.

It had been a long time since I had felt that way about a man. Truthfully, I couldn't even remember if I had ever had similar feelings in the past. Not even for Jake who had been my boyfriend for over two years.

Edward was just… different. I could feel it deep in my bones. It was as if my entire being was aware of the significance of this man's appearance in my life. He was going to make a difference. He was going to change the smooth, habitual course of my existence, and I was okay with that. I now trusted him implicitly. I was ready to offer him my heart on a silver platter and let him do whatever he wished with it.

My light, dreamy pace was abruptly brought to an end by Edward. I staggered, taking a step back to regain my balance, and glanced at him over my shoulder confused. He had stopped in the middle of the busy floor, staring at something with a displeased frown.

I was about to open my mouth and ask him what was wrong, but instead I opted for letting my gaze follow his. There, a few feet ahead, a blond man wearing the same expression as Edward was pinning him down with his eyes. He was tall, even taller than Edward, had a lean body structure and a thick stack of curly hair. His intense stare moved from Edward to me, where it lingered. After a long moment he started moving, and I noticed the silhouette of a petite woman next to him. As expected, they stopped in front of us.

"Hello, Edward," the woman said, smiling cordially.

Even in high heels, she was visibly much smaller than me. Her dark hair was cut into a sleek bob, accentuating her large hazel eyes. She was thin, almost model-like, while her skin had a slightly tan complexion, evidenced by the coral shade of lipstick she was boldly wearing on a gloomy winter evening.

"Alice," Edward replied, nodding curtly.

He was clearly tense, and I tried to extract my hand from his pocket to give him some space, but he gripped it tighter in response, not letting go. In fact, he was gripping my hand so hard, at some point it started hurting. I quietly nudged him with my elbow in protest, and he seemed to understand the message because he loosened his fingers around mine immediately.

Risking a peek to my right, I noticed that the blond guy was still gaping at me, as if he had just discovered the world's eighth wonder. It made me feel extremely self-conscious, and I decided to focus on his companion instead.

"I haven't seen you in a while," she said, still addressing Edward, but studying me curiously from head to toe.

"Well, yes…" Edward started with sudden vigor, but trailed off abruptly.

I glanced at him questioningly, wondering what he had intended to say. He was staring at the man facing him, both seeming to be carrying a silent conversation with their eyes. At a closer look, I realized that Blondie – yes, I had already nicknamed him in my mind- had facial features similar to Edward. And then it dawned on me like a momentous revelation. They were related.

"And who's this?" the feminine voice brought me out of the state of shock I had fallen into at the realization that I was about to be introduced to one of Edward's brothers.

Edward cleared his throat, letting go of my hand and moving his to the small of my back. "This is my friend, Isabella."

Alice's smile got wider as she extended her elegant, long fingers to meet mine in a delicate touch. "Nice to meet you, Isabella."

I couldn't help but respond with a smile of the same caliber. She seemed nice. "You can call me Bella."

As if awaken out of a reverie, Blondie hurried to shake my hand in acknowledgement. "I'm Jasper," he introduced himself. "Edward's younger brother. This is my girlfriend Alice. It's nice to finally meet you."

"You, too," I murmured with a slight nod, wondering what he had meant by 'finally'.

Had Edward talked about me? That simple thought pleased me more than it should have.

A long, pregnant pause followed. Jasper and Alice were both studying me like some sort of fascinating experiment, while Edward's anxiety seemed to be growing by the second.

Eventually, Edward's palm slid from the small of my back to my left side as he circled my waist. "We were just leaving the mall," he announced, starting to drag me away. "I'll see you next Saturday."

"Wait," Alice called, making us stop in our tracks. "We were just leaving, also." Jasper gave her a strange look, which she completely ignored. "Do you guys want to go some place and have a hot drink?"

Edward sighed, running his right hand through his neatly combed hair and ruining the effort he'd put into styling it in a matter of seconds. He was obviously aggravated.

"Maybe some other time, Alice," he replied, doing his best to sound calm, but I could hear the edge in his tone.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Oh, come on. Don't be such a stuck-up. What do you say, Bella?" She turned her attention on me expectantly. "Do you feel like having a nice hot cappuccino?"

I glanced up at Edward inquisitively, but he wasn't looking at me, so I knew it was solely up to me. He was letting me decide for the both of us.

"I guess…" I agreed apprehensively, my curiosity to find out more about Edward's family pushing me to accept Alice's offer.

"Great." She grinned pleased. "How about _Caf__é des Architectes_?"

"We'll see you there," Edward stated dryly, guiding me towards the mall's garage.

Alice and Jasper followed close behind, remaining quiet for the entire five minute walk. We left them on the garage's first floor, while we headed towards the second floor where Edward's BMW was parked.

"Are you okay?" I asked sometime later, turning in the passenger seat to face him. He looked very distracted, and it kind of made me feel anxious.

"Hmmm?" he hummed absentmindedly, his eyes on the traffic ahead, before glancing at me sideways. "Yes, I'm fine."

"We don't have to go if you don't want to. I understand if you don't want me to spend time with your family…"

"It's not that," he cut me off with a sigh, resting his palm on my thigh. "Alice is a nice girl."

I couldn't help but notice how he only referred to Alice, not including Jasper.

"Alice is nice?" I asked softly, my leg left bouncing nervously. "How about your brother? He didn't seem too happy to see you with me."

He shook his head before grabbing the steering wheel with both hands and making a right. "I think he was just… taken by surprise," he confessed cryptically. "But… can we talk about this some other time?"

My response was complete silence. It bugged me that his reluctance to share things with me was affecting me more than I cared to admit.

The car finally came to a stop. Edward put it in reverse and parked it expertly between a black Mercedes and a red Convertible. He killed the engine, angling his body towards me. I looked out the window and away from him, seeing that a few light snowflakes had started to fall.

All of a sudden a warm hand covered my stomach. Instinctively, I turned my head, only to meet Edward's face a few inches away from mine.

"Please don't be mad," he whispered, closing the distance between us and capturing my lips with a soft kiss.

I didn't need to think about it as I let myself feel it. His lips were moving gently yet insistently against my own, and I felt his hand abandon my stomach and grab my chin to tilt my face up towards him. Everything he was doing to me was sensitory overload, and I soon realized I had never been kissed in such a way before. So gentle and caring yet so possessive and domeering.

Edward deepened the kiss after a while, making it last. He then added in the same whispered voice into my mouth, "I promise we'll talk."

All I could do was nod numbly in agreement and hold him to his promise.

_~~ 0 ~~_

"So, Bella," Alice started the conversation from across the table. "How did you and Edward meet?"

_Café des Architectes_ was definitely one of those places that intimidated through its grandor and select clientele. It was extremely modern, cleverly designed and tastefully decorated; making its name justifiable. A single peek at the menu and the little numbers written next to each pretentious course had the effect of an ice cold shower.

Since it was dinner time and everyone was having something to eat, including Edward, I had no other choice but to do the same. I settled on a _Grilled Baby Octopus Ni__ç__oise_ salad and _Muscovy Duck Breast; _mostly at Edward's insistences. I would have been fine with just the salad. He ordered the same for himself, plus a glass of _Sauvignon Blanc_ for each of us.

Alice was smiling politely, waiting for my answer.

I didn't want to bore her with details, so I said succinctly, "Long story short, he purchased a book from the bookstore I work at."

"Oh," she exhaled, her eyebrows rising in surprise. "So, you sell… books."

"Yeah," I confirmed, glancing at Edward. He was looking at Alice without seeing her, his mind seeming to have left the perimeter of the spacious room. I would have given anything to know what was really going on in his head; what he was thinking about.

"That's nice," Alice continued exchanging pleasantries, not giving any indication whether my humble condition bothered her or not. "Are you a student?"

I nodded. "Journalism."

Our waiter showed up holding some sort of wine glass support that looked more like a clothes hanger. He put our wine in front of us, scurrying back to the bar to deliver another order.

Alice took a sip of her sparkly water with a slice of lime. "I guess your job kind of fits you in that case. A journalist has to be a well-read person."

"Yeah," I assented, reaching for my glass of wine at the same time Edward reached for his. The hint of a smirk colored his somber expression as he clinked his glass with mine. I drank, my eyes never leaving his face then turned my attention back to Alice. "How about you?"

"I majored in economics and now I work for my father's company," she said, placing her hand atop Jasper's on the table. He turned his palm up so that he could link his fingers with hers. It was such a loving, romantic gesture that I actually felt a pang of jealousy at the beautiful relationship they obviously had.

"That's great." I smiled.

"Yeah."

Jasper's voice, which up until that moment hadn't been heard, startled me. "Can I ask how old you are, Bella?" he inquired softly, his head tilted to the side as he stared at me as if trying to guess for himself.

"Um… twenty-two?" I replied nervously, making it sound more like a question.

He nodded as if he had been expecting that answer. "I must confess I haven't heard much about you," he said, throwing his brother a pointed look. "Edward doesn't really mention you."

"We haven't known each other that long," I said in Edward's defense.

We weren't even in a relationship yet, so I couldn't expect that he would start chatting with his family or close ones about me. Besides, from what I had witnessed, Edward seemed to be trying to put up a wall between his personal life and everyone who attempted to mingle into it.

Seeing I was on Edward's side, Jasper deftly changed the subject. "I did hear that you met our Jess."

"Yes." I offered him a smile, moving my hand from the table to Edward's thigh.

He startled, not expecting the contact, and I realized just how tense his entire body was. I gave him a light, reassuring squeeze, to which he responded by placing his arm on the back of my chair and running the back of his fingers over the nape of my neck. His touch was sensual, and a wave of spasmic shivers rocked my being to the very core. I fought the urge to let out a moan, grabbing my glass instead and taking a large gulp of wine.

"Lovely kid, isn't she?" Jasper inquired, his stare now fixed on Edward's hand. He then looked at me with the same intensity, and I sensed that what seemed like a simple, informative question was actually more than that.

"She is," I agreed wholeheartedly.

Alice chimed in, "Her father, Emmett told us she's grown very attached to you."

"I've grown attached to her also. She's smart and fun, and she shares my passion for books."

She winked conspiratorially. "I have a feeling she's going to follow your career path, too. Jess would make a heck of a journalist."

I chuckled and was surprised to hear an echo coming from Edward. "I couldn't agree more."

After that, the dinner went on uneventfully. Jasper loosened up and ended up telling jokes, but I couldn't say the same about Edward. He remained stiff and uncomfortable, giving only a few monosyllabic answers here and there.

Even though it was clear he wanted to leave as soon as the meal was over, he insisted I had dessert -the best _crème __brûlée_ in Chicago, as he put it- and a hot _latte macchiato_ to go with it. By the time we were heading out of the restaurant, I was full. Add the warm and fuzzy feeling given by the second glass of wine I'd had, and I was more than ready to collapse on a bed and fall into a dreamless coma.

Once outside, Alice and Jasper walked over to the red convertible parked behind Edward's BMW. Alice pulled out a pair of keys from her bag, while Jasper circled the car to get in the passenger seat.

"It was a real pleasure meeting you, Bella," she said with a genuine smile, standing in front of me. "Can I get your number? Maybe we can meet again sometime."

I hesitated, not knowing if it was a good idea. Edward was standing behind me, so I couldn't see his expression. Alice was looking at me expectantly, while Jasper regarded me impassively from where he was standing with one elbow on top of the car and the other on the open door.

With a sigh, I relented. "Sure."

I dictated the number to her, and a brief, friendly peck on the cheek later, she was behind the wheel, turning on the engine with a sleek purr.

"Bella." Jasper nodded, giving me a playful two-finger salute. "I'll see you."

"Bye." I waved as he slid into his seat and closed the door.

_~~ 0 ~~_

Approximately twenty minutes later, Edward was dropping me off in front of my apartment building. The drive had been silent; only the CD playing a jazzy song acting like a cheerful third companion, singing his plastic lungs out in a desperate attempt to defuse the tension.

Leaving the engine on, Edward unbuckled his seat belt and turned to face me. He regarded me cautiously, his brow furrowed. A deep line I had never seen before appeared at the corner of his mouth, and I reached up, smoothing my thumb over it.

He sighed, closing his eyes momentarily as he leaned into my touch. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" I murmured.

He took my hand into his, kissing my palm. "My family is… difficult, to put it mildly."

I chuckled quietly. "Jasper doesn't seem that difficult to me. Neither does Alice. She's really easy to talk to."

He leaned back into his seat, looking out the windshield. "Yes, Alice is… well, she's Alice. And Jasper doesn't really care…" he let the rest of the sentence hanging in the air, as if he was talking to himself.

"Care about what?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"Isabella, trust me when I tell you, you don't want to get to know the rest of my family. Especially my mother."

"Yeah, I know," I blurted out stupidly.

He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "How do you know?"

_Uh oh._

_Nice way of letting the cat out of the bag, Bella, _I scolded myself mentally.

I couldn't exactly tell him I had been trying to extract information from his niece, so I gave him an answer as close to the truth as I could.

"Uh… Jess said something similar," I said vaguely.

"What did Jess say?" he asked suspiciously, and I cringed on the inside.

_Here goes nothing…_

"That your mother wasn't very nice."

I expected him to get upset over the comment, but to my complete amazement, he let out a loud snort. "That's an understatement."

I blinked at him, not believing what I was hearing. So, she was that bad…

Edward sighed again, this time almost sufferingly. His voice softened significantly as he went on, "What you need to understand is that my mother adored Tanya. She'll never accept you." He said the last sentence with such finality and conviction that I instantly believed him.

"But, why?" I demanded, my voice rising to an alarming pitch. "She doesn't even know me."

"It doesn't matter," he said sadly, shaking his head.

I scoffed a little. "I don't get it. Can you please stop beating around the bush and tell me the truth? What is it that your family won't accept? My age?"

"Yes." He looked away, adding as an afterthought, "… in part."

"In part?" I repeated, starting to get frustrated and maybe a bit panicked. "Edward…"

"It's irrelevant," he cut me off with an irritated wave of his hand. "I don't care what my family thinks. I'll see whomever I want to see. And I want to see you." He then turned to me with pleading eyes. "Let's not talk about it anymore, okay? Please?"

I was tempted to insist on the subject, but I didn't. If he thought the Cullen clan wasn't going to accept me, I was going to prove him wrong. Jasper came around pretty quickly, so I saw no reason why the others wouldn't. Edward was probably overreacting.

With that thought in mind, I offered him a pacifist smile. "Fine."

We split sometime later after a heated make out session. He waited until I was inside the building to drive off, and I took the elevator to the fifth floor with a wide grin on my face. My lips were swollen in the most delicious way, and I bit down on them, still tasting Edward's breath. Digging into my bag for the keys, I pulled them out and unlocked the front door, stepping inside. I took off my coat and boots, heading straight for the living room where the light was still on. Angela was lying on the couch with a decorative pillow snuggled to her chest.

"Hey," she said hoarsely, trying to smile but failing horribly. "How was the movie?"

"It was okay," I replied apprehensively, sitting on the edge of the couch. "Is something wrong? Have you been crying?"

"No," she lied, averting her puffy eyes.

"Ang…"

"Ben called."

A bitter tear slid down her cheek, and my heart broke at the sight.

"Why won't you talk to the poor guy?" I admonished gently, wiping the tear away with the tips of my fingers. "Maybe he's really changed."

She sniffed, lifting herself into a sitting position. "You know as well as I do that jealousy is a disease that's not easily cured," she cleared her throat, wiping furiously at the tears that wouldn't stop falling. "I just couldn't possibly take the fights anymore. The last months of our relationship caused havoc on my mind. He almost brought me to the brink of insanity. You know that."

"But he loves you so much," I tried again. "Maybe if you gave him a second chance…"

"I don't know." Her voice broke. "He does seem different, but… I just don't know. I'm afraid."

"You may one day regret you didn't give him the chance to fix it."

She looked down at her lap, a deep frown adorning her tormented expression. I knew it was hard for her. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was still in love with him.

After a long minute, she grabbed a tissue from the coffee table, blew her nose noisily then glanced at me. "So, how was your date with Edward?"

I shrugged. "We ran into his younger brother and his girlfriend."

"That's nice," she said absently.

"Yeah," I said, my mind flying back to Edward and our earlier conversation.

I was going to prove him wrong. At least, I hoped I would.

_~~ 0 ~~_

A few days later, I got an unexpected call. I was at work, arranging a stack of newly received books, when the familiar ringtone made me abandon what I was doing. I hurried towards the sales counter where Kate was standing. She was hunched over a poetry volume, her hand outstretched with my cell phone in it. I grabbed it from her, frowning when I saw the unknown number.

"Yes?" I answered, leaning against the counter.

"Bella?" the feminine voice said. "This is Alice. Jasper's girlfriend."

"Oh," I breathed, straightening up. "Hey, Alice. How are you?"

"I'm fine, thanks," she sounded like she was in the hurry. "Are you free this evening?"

_No need bothering with small talk…_

"Yeah, why?"

I heard a muffled greeting in the background to which she replied hastily before continuing, "I was thinking we could have dinner together. I would like to get to know you better."

I sensed this was not exactly a social meeting. She wanted something from me, but that was okay with me because I wanted something from her too. "Okay, sure."

"Is my place alright? I feel like cooking tonight."

Well, I certainly hadn't expected that. She barely knew me, so the fact that she was inviting me to her place demonstrated that my previous thought wasn't ill-founded.

"Yeah," I said, miming that I needed a pen and paper. "Let me get something to write down the address."

Kate produced a sharp pencil from one of the drawers, handing it to me along with a notebook. I jotted down the address, having a general idea about where it was.

"You know where that is?" Alice wanted to make sure.

"Mmhmm," I hummed affirmatively, cradling the phone between my ear and shoulder blade. "When should I be there?"

"Around six?"

"I get off work at seven."

"Seven-thirty then. Call me if you get lost or anything."

"Who's Alice?" Kate inquired as soon as I hung up.

"A girl," I stated, doodling tiny flowers around Alice's address.

She rolled her eyes, closing the poetry volume. "I figured as much."

I shrugged nonchalantly, making one daisy's stem spread like ivy along the margins of the page. "She's a new friend I made."

As if intuiting that the recently ended phone conversation had something to do with Edward, she asked, "How are things with that boyfriend of yours?"

"He's not my boyfriend," I clarified, but it came out more like a frustrated mutter. "We're just… seeing each other."

The truth was, I really wanted to call Edward my boyfriend. Or… whatever it is that you call a 34 year old man you're in a relationship with. I was well aware of the fact that we weren't quite dating yet, but that didn't stop me from dreaming and wishing.

"Right." Kate nodded, reminding herself of my single status.

"Things are well with Edward. We're taking it one step at a time," I explained, mostly to reassure myself that even though we were taking it easy, we were also making progress.

Kate was silent. I glanced at her after a while and saw that she was staring at me with a strange look on her face. "You really like him, don't you?"

I sighed heavily. She could read me like an open book, and it kind of bothered me that I was that obvious.

"I do," I confessed quietly. "He's a good man."

"Not to mention he's extremely handsome," she teased with a playful wink.

"Garrett's good looking," I pointed out, referring to her love interest of three months; the one she'd met online.

"He is." She beamed, and it lifted my mood to see her truly happy as she deserved. "I'm lucky to have him."

"Yes, you are," I reinforced, smiling at her.

_~~ 0 ~~_

As soon as the work day was over, I hurried to the bathroom to fix my hair and apply a bit of make up. I put on mascara and some nude lip gloss, taking out the bottle of perfume from my bag and spritzing myself behind my ears and on the wrists.

Yes, since I had started seeing Edward, I began carrying perfume with me everywhere I went. Sue me.

I called for a taxi which arrived shortly. I bid Kate good bye and made my way outside, making sure to wrap the scarf I was wearing more securely around my neck. Giving the young driver the address, I leaned back into my seat and relaxed, basking in the cab's warmth.

I tried to empty my mind and not think about the inevitable conversation Alice and I will be having, but it was easier said than done. I was nervous because I really wanted her to like me. In my mind, if I had her approval, it meant I had Jasper's approval. One brother down; one left to win on my side.

All too soon, the car stopped and the driver announced we were there. I startled, as if brought out of a deep reverie and leaned over to glance out the window. We were in front of an imposing building, at least fifty stories high. I paid for the cab and got out into the freezing air, heading towards the front entrance with small steps.

Once inside, I was greeted by an amiable doorman. He asked who I was looking for, and I realized I had no idea what Alice's last name was. Pulling my phone out, I dialed her number and quickly learned that her full name was Alice Brandon.

"48th floor, door 270," the man informed me, and I thanked him, heading towards the elevator.

As I stepped out, a couple of minutes later, I saw Alice waiting for me in the hallway. She was dresses casualy in a pair of jeans and a beige knitted sweater, her feet concealed by a pair of comfortable slippers.

"Hey!" she said with a smile. "Come on in."

I stepped inside, starting to unbutton my coat. My eyes roamed the foreign surroundings, taking in the strong, vibrant colors of the walls and the large living area that seemed decorated by Queen Scheherazade herself. The furniture was all inspired by the Arabian culture, including a few intricate ottomans, a brass tray table, oversized iron lanterns, a rug with a very interesting pattern and a beautiful tangier sofa that looked like it had fallen out of the pages of _Arabian Nights. _It reminded me of _The Oriental_, the bookstore, and I found myself smiling at the passion for the Eastern culture that both Kate and Alice seemed to share.

"Nice place," I observed, removing my scarf.

"Thanks," she beamed proudly. "I decorated it myself." She took the coat, bag and scarf from me, placing them in a nearby closet. "I just started dinner, so it's going to be a while until it's ready. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Sure," I accepted as she guided me towards the kitchen. Just like the living area, this room followed the same theme. It was spacious, with stools resembling the ottomans I had seen earlier and dark ebony counters paired with some sort of golden metal countertops.

"Wow," I breathed in awe. "Your kitchen is amazing."

"I know, right? Too bad I don't get to use it very often," she lamented. "So, what can I get you? Wine, beer, vodka…"

"Whatever you're having," I said, running my palm over the smooth surface of the unique counters to feel the texture.

"I was thinking about making some mulled wine."

I shrugged unknowingly. "I've never had it."

"No?" She frowned playfully. "It's delicious. I have a Serbian recipe with nutmeg, cinnamon and orange slices that's simply mouthwatering."

She took out a bottle of red wine and a kettle, setting to work.

"Can I help with dinner?" I asked, gesturing towards the ingredients lying on the kitchen island.

"But of course. I'm making coq-au-vin. You can start by peeling the carrots."

A long, kind of awkward silence fell over the room as each of us focused on our respective tasks. When I was finished with the carrots I moved on to the onions.

Alice was the one to break the silence. "So, how was work?"

I looked up, surprised by the question. "Tiring. I had classes in the morning, and after that I went straight to work."

She nodded sympathetically, slicing an orange. "Luckily for me, I never had to work during college."

"Can I ask where you went to school?" I went on with the chit chat.

"UC. I wanted to be close to my family. And Jasper, of course."

"How did you two meet?"

"We've known each other since we were kids, but the first time he started taking an interest in me was about eight years ago," she explained, staring off into space. "I was a high school senior, and he was in his second year at med school. I had a huge party for my eighteenth birthday, and he was invited. I was wearing a skimpy dress… we were both tipsy…" she chuckled sheepishly, glancing at me with twinkling eyes, "…you can imagine the rest."

I replied with a chuckle of my own. "So, he's a doctor?"

"Neurosurgeon," she corrected, pouring the steaming wine into mugs and adding the orange slices. "Well, he's still a resident."

"Wow, that's a hard job." I was actually a bit impressed.

"It is. But he loves it. He could have been an attorney like his father and brothers, but he just didn't feel inclined to follow in their footsteps. He has wanted to have a medical career since I can remember."

The adoration in her voice only reinforced my belief that they had a really strong relationship. I found myself blurting out, "You guys make a great couple."

"Really?" She walked over to where I was standing, handing me a mug. I nodded, taking it from her and bringing it to my lips. It tasted wonderful; a perfect combination of sweetness and spices.

"Thanks. I would say the same about you and Edward, but…"

"…we're not together," I completed the sentence for her.

"Yet," she added, giving me a meaningful look. "Can I be honest?"

"Sure," I assented, a bit nervous about what she was about to say. The alcohol from the wine was rising in thick steams towards my face, invading my nostrils. I took another sip, inhaling the delicious smell, and I could actually feel my cheeks coloring from the heat.

"I wanted you to come here so we could talk. About you and Edward and whatever it is that you two have. A public place wouldn't have been as… intimate, and I think that kind of conversation requires for a more privy setting."

I sighed, placing the mug on the counter and bracing myself. "What is it that you want to know?"

"Do you care for him?"

"Of course I do," I said immediately. "Edward is a great man."

"He is," she said, her expression becoming very serious. "He's also very devoted, romantic and has a sensitive soul. He may not show it. In front of everyone else, he parades that hard exterior he uses as a shield, but once you managed to make your way into his heart, you'll discover the real him. And trust me when I tell you that if you ever win his love, you'll be the happiest woman alive."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked weakly, her words affecting me more than it should.

She inched closer to me, crossing her arms over her chest. "Because I have a feeling this is not a simple friendship. He's grown attached to you. I could see it in his eyes… in the way he looked at you; the way he touched you."

"Alice…"

"Please don't ever hurt him," she begged. "He's been through a lot and he deserves to be happy."

"I know." My throat suddenly became very dry. "I promise I'll never intentionally hurt him."

My answer seemed to put her at ease. "Good," she rubbed my upper arm in a friendly manner. "That's all I needed to hear." She grabbed the poultry and a long knife, starting to carve it.

"Can I now ask you something?" I said tentatively, going back to my previous task of chopping parsley.

She encouraged me with a smile. "Shoot."

I took a deep breath, debating on how to pose the question that had been plaguing my mind since the night I had met her. "Why do I have the feeling the rest of the Cullen family isn't going to like me very much?"

The smile she was wearing morphed into a knowing smirk. "By the rest of the family you mean Esme?"

"Well… yeah."

Alice put down the knife, staring at the result of her work so far. "Esme's a complicated woman," she offered unsatisfactorily.

I stared at her, waiting for the completion.

"How do I put this so it doesn't sound as harsh as I know it will?" she said, tapping her chin pensively. "She'll think you're a gold-digging tramp."

I gasped, my bugged eyes rivaling those of Jim Carrey's in the Mask. "What?"

"Esme's obsessed with social status," she said apologetically. "She'll never accept a woman who doesn't rank at least as high as her on the social hierarchy."

"But why?" I insisted, not understanding. "It's not like I'm a beggar. I'm studying hard to make something of myself."

Alice shook her head sadly. "That's irrelevant to her. You don't come from a good family; you're not good enough for her precious son."

A wave of revolted anger lit me on fire. Who did that woman think she was? What right did she have telling me I wasn't good enough? I worked my ass off to see my biggest dream come true; to make a career for myself.

Alice must have noticed my murderous expression, because she grabbed my hand, squeezing it comfortingly. "I'm only telling you this so you can know what to expect in the future."

Swallowing my discontent and humiliation like a bitter pill, I asked the next question, almost afraid to hear the answer. "Is she really that bad?"

"Unfortunately, yes. Esme didn't like Tanya much in the beginning either. That's until she found out that royal blood ran through her veins."

"Royal blood?" I said confused.

"It's kind of complicated," Alice replied with furrowed eyebrows, leaning against the kitchen island. "Tanya's –or better said Tatiana's- great-grandfather was Sigvard Oscar Fredrik Bernadotte, Count of Wisborg. He was the second son of King Gustaf VI of Sweden and his first wife, Princess Margaret. He was originally known as Prince Sigvard, Duke of Uppland, but lost his royal titles in 1927 when he married a commoner. Count Michael Sigvard Bernadotte of Wisborg, Tanya's grandfather made the same 'mistake' as his father by marrying Tatiana Abakumov, a Russian industrial worker. You can imagine the disgrace he brought in the family by marrying someone so inferior to him. It's a long story, but they ended up in New York where Tanya's mother Elsa was born. Later, she met Mr. Denali, a wealthy American businessman, and that's how Tanya was concieved. The thing is... Elsa's heritage has deep roots in the Swedish and Russian royal families. Get this... Tanya's great-great-great-grandmother was second degree cousin to Tsar Nicholas II."

I gaped at her. "As in... the Romanovs? The famous Anastasia's father?"

"Exactly."

"I'm... speechless," I breathed increduously. "So, unless I'm royalty, I'm not good enough in Esme's eyes."

"Something like that. Besides, you're so much younger than Edward, there's no way in hell you're going to convince her you're not after his money."

"Great," I muttered with a huff. "Just… great."

Seeing my desolation, Alice walked over to the fridge, pulled out a bottle of vodka and poured two shots. She handed one to me, clinking her glass with mine. Grateful, I didn't waste any time in downing the content. Strangely, the strong alcohol actually made me feel a little better.

Alice poured another shot, and I downed that one too. Then another followed. Usually, I wasn't that big of a drinker, but at that moment I felt the need to numb my mind.

"If Edward ends up loving you, he won't care about his mother's opinion," she said consolingly, making a face after her third shot.

"How about Mr. Cullen?" I asked, snickering hoarsely.

Yeah, I was starting to get tipsy. Apparently, Alice was too.

"Carlisle?" she said loudly, her voice getting high pitched. She laughed. "He's a sweetheart. I honestly don't get how he was able to fall in love with that horrible woman."

We clinked another glass, and she added almost like a toast, "Bella, I can already tell you have a lovely personality. I'm sure in time you're going to eventually get everyone in the Cullen clan on your side."

"Even Esme?"

"Who knows? Maybe even her. But you'll have to work hard for it."

We drank for the fourth time that evening. As the alcohol trailed down my throat, I thought about Alice's words.

She said I would have to work for Esme's acceptance.

The question was…

Was it even worth it?

* * *

><p><strong>AN ****Alcohol + an empty stomach = ?**

**Yeah, Edward's going to be pretty pissed off… lol**

**~ Andreea ~**


	12. Chapter 11: Aggravated

**Chapter 11**

**Edward Pov**

* * *

><p><em>~ December 22<em>_nd__, 2011 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

I sighed, taking off my glasses and rubbing my eyes with my thumb and forefinger. I had been pouring over the same page for the last half an hour without making any progress. I felt tired, drained of every drop of energy my body might have stored. I couldn't even concentrate on work anymore, my attention span resembling that of a three year-old.

I wasn't quite sure what was causing this newly developed fatigue that seemed to take over me, but the thought that I needed a vacation was starting to implant itself in my mind with each passing day.

Maybe it was the holidays peeking around the corner that made me crave the peace and quiet. Maybe it was the fast approaching one year anniversary of Tanya's death. Whatever the reason, I just knew, deep inside, that if I didn't take a break soon, I was going to have a mental breakdown.

I needed to just… relax.

Just as I was reaching for the office phone to ask Victoria for a cup of tea, my cell phone started ringing. I grabbed it from the desk, seeing the unknown number. Thinking it might be one of my clients, I leaned back into my chair and took the call.

"Yes?"

"Edward?" an anxious feminine voice greeted me. "This is Angela. And… don't even bother asking how I got your number."

"Okay," I said, sitting up straighter. I would have chuckled, but the distress resonating in my ear kept me from doing so. "What is it, Angela?"

And then she posed the oddest question; one I never thought I would be hearing.

"Do you have any idea where Bella might be?"

I felt my throat constrict, and I asked lowly, afraid to know the answer, "What do you mean?"

Angela took a deep, staggered breath, and I could tell she was about to start crying. "She didn't come home last night. I called Kate and she told me Bella left work yesterday to meet with a new friend called Alice. I'm kind of freaking out right now."

I frowned at the mention of Alice. "Are you sure she said Alice?"

She sniffed. "Yeah. Why?"

"I think I know where she is," I said my worry suddenly converting to irritation. "Don't worry, I'll bring her home."

Hanging up, I rose to my feet, putting on my suit jacket. I glanced at my watch, seeing it was just past nine in the morning then hurried out of the office. I instructed Victoria to cancel my ten o-clock meeting, letting her know I wasn't sure when I was going to be back.

As I climbed into my car and exited the building, my thoughts flew towards last Saturday. My mind replayed in slow motion us bumping into Jasper and Alice and the events that followed. Their reaction at meeting Isabella had been the one I had always expected. I knew my younger brother well. His initial apathetic demeanor was due more to the surprise of finally getting to know the new woman in my life than anything else. He had never been interested in telling me how to live my life, and I was certain he wasn't going to start now. I knew for sure that in time he and Isabella were going to get along just fine. As for Alice… I wasn't too worried about her either. I knew for a fact that she was going to be keeping things to herself and not spreading the word about Isabella until I deemed it necessary.

Alice was a jovial person. She was dynamic, easy to get along with and not to mention that interacting with people was like an advanced skill she had developed over the years. So it was of no surprise to me or to Jasper that she was trying to befriend Isabella.

I remembered the conversation I'd had with Jasper the day following the mall encounter.

"_Alice likes her. You can now rest assured you have an ally on your side,"_ he'd said with a chuckle, adding after a long pause, _"I like her, too. She seems nice."_

I wasn't going to lie to myself about it; knowing I had my brother's support made me feel infinitely better. Isabella was the best thing that had happened to me in a long time. I didn't plan on giving up on her that easily; no matter what any of them said or thought about it. But having the knowledge that _someone_ was on my side, supporting me in my decisions, lifted a weight off my heart.

Minutes later, I was parking the BMW in the visitor's section of the building's garage. I climbed out and locked the car, heading towards the main lobby with large, hurried steps. The doorman sitting behind his desk recognized me, nodding his head and offering a polite greeting. I said a quick hello in return, going straight for the elevator.

I didn't even get to ring the doorbell twice before the heavy, white front door flew open, revealing a very disheveled-looking Alice. She had jeans on and a beige sweater, and by the look of her, I could swear she had slept in those clothes. She didn't seem neither impressed nor surprised to see me there.

"Oh, hey," she uttered flatly, her eyes narrowed with sleep and her voice slightly hoarse. Turning on her heels, she headed towards the kitchen, leaving me standing in the hallway.

I frowned, stepping inside and closing the door behind me. "Where is she?" I asked, making my way into the kitchen where she was making coffee.

Alice yawned, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. "She's still sleeping."

Glancing around the room, I took in the stale ingredients lying around on the kitchen island and the empty bottle of vodka paired with two shot glasses sitting on the countertop.

"What is this?" I snapped, pointing towards the vodka bottle.

"As you can see," she started, pausing to roll her eyes at me petulantly, "… it's an empty vodka bottle."

"Yes, I can see that," I gritted, doing my best to keep my calm.

"Then why ask?" she shot back, turning her attention back to making coffee.

"Don't test my patience, Alice," I hissed, getting aggravated with her. "You got her drunk?"

"No. We both got drunk," she corrected, having the audacity to grin at me. "It was a fun night. I really like her."

I shook my head incredulously. "You are so irresponsible. She missed her morning classes because of you."

She nodded, pouring coffee into a mug. "Yes, and I missed work. You know how dad freaks out when I miss work. It wasn't intentional. It just… happened."

She was so nonchalant about the whole thing, it made me want to strangle her, or at least smack some sense into her. Luckily for me and my spotless record, I managed to refrain myself.

With a glare like only I could deliver, I grabbed a glass from one of the cabinets, pouring water in it. Leaving Alice to her coffee, I exited the kitchen, stomping my way into her bedroom.

My eyes found Isabella immediately. She was lying on her back in the middle of the king-sized bed, clad in a pair of jeans and a white tank top, with her feet bare. Her long dark hair was sprawled all over the pristine white pillow, creating a strong contrast. Her lips were slightly parted as she let out deep, steady breaths.

Approaching the bed, I took a seat on the edge, careful not to startle her. I let my gaze linger on the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, slowly moving upwards to her face. She looked so peaceful; for a moment I almost forgot that I was irritated with her.

Almost.

Reaching out to take hold of her left shoulder, I began shaking her gently.

"Isabella," I murmured, hovering over her silent form. "Wake up."

Two more shakes were all it took for her to come back from dream land. She peeked at me confusedly through narrowed slits.

"Edward?" she croaked, craning her neck to the side questioningly. I nodded, and she smiled, closing her eyes again.

_One…_

_Two…_

_Three…_

"Edward!" she squeaked alarmed, sitting up abruptly. "Ow, ow, ow," she groaned, placing her palms on her temples. "My head."

Yes.

Suddenly, she was very much awake.

"Take it easy," I said, the scowl I was wearing never leaving my face.

She swallowed, her tongue darting out to run over her lips as she eyed the glass in my hand longingly. "What are you doing here?" her soft voice was oozing guilt.

I handed her the water and she accepted it, downing it greedily. Rising to my feet, I crossed my arms over my chest, looking down at her disapprovingly. "You didn't go home last night, and Angela was worried, so she called me."

"Oh my God," she whimpered, burying her face in her palm. "I didn't mean to…"

She was cut off by Alice entering the bedroom. Ignoring me, she went straight to Isabella, handing her a steaming mug of freshly made coffee.

"Here," she said, smiling sympathetically. "This should wake you up."

"Thanks," Isabella murmured, avoiding my gaze.

"You want me to get you a pill for your headache?" Alice offered.

"Yes, please," she answered. Alice scurried off to search for the pill, leaving Isabella and me alone again. Isabella sipped on her coffee quietly while I watched her. Finally, still not meeting my accusatory eyes, she said with a heavy sigh, "Are you mad?"

"Yes," I replied, my voice hard. "And I bet Angela is going to be even madder."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking down at the mug.

I waved her off dismissively. "Save your apologies for her."

"Edward…"

I knew the repeated apology that was about to fall from her lips was going to make me angry. Sometimes I had a really bad temper. So, before I said something harsh that I would later regret, I turned around to leave. "I'll wait for you in the kitchen," I said over my shoulder, stepping out of the room just as Alice was returning with a couple of Advil caplets.

"Thank you," I heard Isabella say softly, and I remained standing just outside the room for a moment. "He's angry with me."

"He'll get over it," Alice comforted. "That's just his temper speaking. Trust me; I've known Edward my entire life. He's like a big brother to me. An annoying one, that is."

Alice was right. I_ was_ going to get over it; just not right now.

I waited in the kitchen five or ten minutes until Isabella made an appearance. I was sipping coffee and gazing out the large window when I heard her light footsteps. Looking in that direction, I saw her standing in the doorway, fully dressed and her hands shoved into her back pockets. She had her hair pulled up in a ponytail and even though she now looked wide awake, there were still visible traces of a hangover coloring her pale features.

"Ready?" I asked, putting down my mug and walking over to her.

She nodded. "Yeah." I walked past her as she turned to give Alice a hug. "Bye, Alice."

"I'll see you," Alice replied as Isabella grabbed her bag, following me out into the hallway.

I stopped in front of the elevator and pushed the button, waiting for the doors to open. I motioned for her to step in first then took my spot next to her for the short ride.

The tension was so thick between us; you could cut it with the proverbial knife.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out all of the sudden, moving herself in front of me to get my attention. She took a deep breath, looking up at me pleadingly before continuing, "Alice called last night. She said she wanted to get to know me better. She invited me over, and I just… I said yes. I didn't think you'd get mad over it."

Frustrated, I ran my fingers through my hair. She really didn't get it. "I'm not mad that you came here. I already told you Alice is a nice girl, and I think you two could be great friends. I'm upset that you acted so foolishly. Getting drunk and passing out in a foreign house doesn't exactly qualify as responsible behavior, does it? Angela is worried sick about you. Couldn't you at least let the poor girl know you weren't planning on coming home last night? What if she called the police? You can be so puerile sometimes, Isabella."

By the end of my little speech, I was fuming.

Apparently so was she. Her eyes narrowed menacingly. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Do I speak in riddles?" I snapped at her. "Do you want me to give you the definition of puerile?"

She inhaled sharply, staring at me incredulously. The familiar ding indicated we had reached the first floor.

"You are such a jerk, you know that?" she gritted before spinning around and rushing out of the elevator.

"Where are you going?" I called, my brow furrowed. "Isabella!"

The doorman followed her with inquisitive eyes as she stormed past him, heading towards the exit. He didn't dare address me again as he quickly went back to the newspaper he had been reading.

"Isabella!" I called again, accelerating my pace.

"I'm going home! Alone!" she yelled over her shoulder, opening the front door and stepping outside.

Cursing under my breath, I began jogging to catch up to her. The freezing cold assaulted me as soon as I set foot on the slippery asphalt. Neither the suit I was wearing nor the dress shoes were under any circumstances able to cope with the low temperatures, and I felt my body start to shiver at the unexpected impact. She was putting considerable distance between us with each determined step she took, and I soon found myself running after her. I couldn't remember a time when I had been chasing after a woman before, so this was quite new to me.

"Isabella, it's fucking freezing!" I yelled through chattering teeth, attracting passersby's attention. In my haste, I slipped on some ice that had formed on the sidewalk and almost lost my footing which caused a few very unorthodox words to come out of my mouth. "Come back here. I'll give you a ride home."

"No, thanks," she replied, her large steps never faltering. "I'd rather walk!"

"Stubborn woman," I muttered, glaring daggers at her back.

I finally reached her and grabbed her arm to stop her. "Hey," I said, turning her around to face me. "Let me take you home. Please."

She looked away, refusing to meet my eyes, and I noticed hers were moist. The sight made me feel horrible. I was making her cry without having any intention to.

"Idiot," I scolded myself , pulling her close.

She sniffed quietly, and I kissed her hair, leaning down to whisper in her ear, "Please don't do that."

I think that was the crucial moment I realized I was starting to care about Isabella. Even though we had known each other for only a few months, she had already gotten under my skin. I went to bed at night thinking about her and woke up the next morning with her still in mind. She was in my thoughts when I worked, when I ate, or when I drove. I'd said to her I wasn't ready for a relationship yet, but both my body and soul were craving it with an intensity that scared me. I was tired of being alone.

_~~ 0 ~~_

We reconciled quickly and effortlessly. After dropping her off, I made my way back to the office where Dad was waiting for me to discuss a case. Then, sometime after my one o'clock meeting, I was surprised to receive a call from Isabella.

"She's livid," she said, sounding desolate.

"What did you expect?" I scolded gently, glad to hear her voice. "How would _you_ have reacted if you were in her shoes?"

She sighed sufferingly. "I know… I know…"

"She'll get over it," I assured her, using the same words Alice had earlier that day.

"Do you want to come over this evening?" she asked, and there was so much hope in her voice that I couldn't have said no even if I wanted to. "Angela is working the night shift and I don't feel like being alone."

She couldn't see me, but I smiled nonetheless. "Sure. I'll come straight from work."

"Okay." She was smiling back; I could sense it. Then, as an afterthought, she added, "Oh, do you like pork?"

"Yes," I replied. "Why?"

"That's what I'm making for dinner."

"Alright." My smile spread into a grin. "I can't wait to taste your cooking again."

She chuckled. "I'll see you later."

Just as I was putting the cell phone down, there was a short knock at the door. Emmett, wearing his thick-rimmed reading glasses, stepped in, closing the door behind him. He walked over to my desk and stood with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Mom called," he said, looking down at me. "She wants us all present for dinner tonight."

This was definitely… strange. Mom usually only wanted us over for dinner on Saturday, very rarely on any other day. It must have been important. But I had already promised Isabella I would be having dinner with her, and I didn't want to have to cancel, especially after the small fight we'd had in the morning. I felt like I had to make it up to her somehow.

I shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. "I can't. I already made dinner plans."

"She insisted. She told me it's important," Emmett said, confirming my previous thought.

"I'm sorry. It'll have to wait."

He was silent for a moment, staring at me suspiciously as if trying to decipher something on my face. "Are you seeing that woman? Bella?"

I sighed in irritation, taking off my glasses and tossing them on a stack of papers. "Does it matter if I'm seeing her or not? I made plans and I'm not going to cancel them. Whatever mother has to say can wait."

"Edward, you haven't attended Saturday dinners in over a month. You owe her this much. Don't be a jerk about it," he replied, his voice hard.

He was starting to annoy me, but I knew he was right. I couldn't keep avoiding my mother forever.

"Fine," I conceded, reining in the urge to roll my eyes at him belligerently. It seemed that Alice wasn't only rubbing off on Isabella, but on me also.

Emmett left my office, seeming pleased with my answer. With a heavy heart, I lifted the phone, dialing Isabella's number.

"I'm not going to be able to make it tonight," I said when she picked up, letting my tone inform her that I wasn't pleased with this new turn of events. I would have chosen her company over the one of my family anytime.

"Oh," she exhaled, clearly disappointed. "Did something happen?"

"No. My mother wants me home for some reason, so I'll be having dinner at my parents'. But I can come by afterwards, if you want." I waited for her answer, afraid that she might say we should leave it for another time, after all.

"Okay," she agreed, and I let out a relieved breath. "I'll be waiting."

_~~ 0 ~~_

I left work around five. Going home to take a shower and change clothes, I settled on a pair of dark-blue jeans, a white button-down and a gray tweed sports jacket. I tried to fix my hair in the bathroom mirror, but it was having one of those bad days when no matter what I did, I couldn't get it to stay in place. I decided I needed another haircut urgently.

By the time I made it to my parents', it was after six. I parked the car in the driveway behind my father's Bentley, getting out and jogging towards the main entrance. It was cold as hell, the extreme temperatures reminding me of the awful nights I had endured in Russia during a winter vacation. I rang the doorbell and waited, pulling my collar up to fend off the icy wind ambushing my ears from all sides. Seconds later I was looking at Miriam; a tall forty-something woman with pale blond hair and striking blue eyes, who had been working there as a maid for a few years. She was wearing her usual navy blue and white uniform and smiled when she saw me.

"Sir," she greeted, stepping aside so I could come in.

"Hello, Miriam," I said, returning the smile as I shrugged off my coat and with it the cold. "Is everyone here yet?"

"Just your older brother," she said, holding her hand outstretched. "I'll take that."

I handed it to her, and was left with my warm jacket on. "Thanks."

Miriam nodded her head towards the living area, and with a sigh I made my way in that direction. The scene unfolding in front of me seemed the exact copy of one cut from a 50's movie. Emmett, wearing brown patent Salvatore Ferragamo dress boots and a white argyle sweater was sitting in an armchair with a glass of whiskey in his right hand and the other resting on his wife's waist. She was perched up on his lap, one of her milky arms wrapped around his neck as she was laughing heartily at something he'd said. She was looking beautiful in red, a color that suited both her fair skin and her long blonde locks. Dad was standing next to the black marble fireplace, holding a similar glass in hand and taking long drags from a long, thin cigar. Cherry flavored. His favorite. He wasn't that big of a smoker, but from time to time he liked to treat himself with one of those cigars. Now was one of those times. Turning my head to the right, I saw my mother sitting on a sofa, her perfectly manicured hands resting in her lap, one on top of the other. She spotted me and rose to her feet, walking over to welcome me.

"Edward, darling!" she exclaimed, smiling brightly as she kissed my cheek. "I'm so glad you could make it."

"Mother," I said, kissing her back. Turning my head in my father's direction I acknowledged him with a nod. "Dad."

He smiled, holding up his glass.

"Look at you," Mom said with twinkling eyes, patting my cheek. She was definitely in an exceptional mood. "You are so handsome."

I chuckled amusedly. "I'm your son. What else could you say?"

She rolled her eyes in return, playfully swatting at me.

Someone cleared their throat to get my attention. Rosalie was staring at me expectantly.

"Nice to see you, Rosalie."

The hint of a smirk made its way to her face. "You, too."

"Where's Jess?" I asked her, looking around.

Emmett answered instead, "In Dad's study, playing games on his computer."

"I'm going to say hello," I said and quickly made my exit.

Jessica was sitting in Dad's leather office chair, concentrating on the large screen. From where I stood in the doorway, I could see exactly what game she was playing.

"Solitaire?" I spoke, causing her head to spin in my direction abruptly. "Really? Couldn't you find something more entertaining?"

I stepped into the room, walking over to give her a peck on the forehead.

She shrugged, grinning up at me. "Hey, Uncle Eddie."

"Hi," I said softly, noticing the new piece of jewelry hanging from her wrist. "Nice bracelet."

Her grin widened. "Daddy gave it to me as an early Christmas present." She ran her fingers over the small golden charms, examining them momentarily. Then she got up from the chair, grabbed my hand and led me to the couch. "How's Bella?" she inquired, snuggling into my side.

"How should I know?" I said, feigning ignorance.

She looked up at me with narrowed eyes. "I'm not stupid. I know you're dating her."

At her reply, I let out a low laugh. She was too perceptive for her own good. "Am I now?"

"Duh."

"She's fine," I said with a sigh, rubbing circles on her upper back with my palm. "I was actually supposed to be with her right now."

"Why aren't you?" she murmured lazily, her face now buried into my side.

"Because your grandmother insisted I was here."

She was completely still for a minute then she glanced up with a frown. "What does she want anyway? She never invites us to dinner during the week."

"Who knows what she has in store for us?" I replied sincerely, because when it came to my mother's hidden agenda, I was clueless. "She's full of surprises."

A few minutes later, Jess and I were returning to the living room. At that exact moment, the doorbell rang. Shortly after, Jasper and Alice made an appearance. They were holding hands as they stepped into the room, looking like they had just seen a ghost. Alice's panicked gaze found mine, and everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion.

Behind them, followed the sound of sharp heels hitting the cherry hardwood flooring. One second I was looking at nothing, and the other, a pair of legs came into sight. They were long and tan, wrapped in black pantyhose. A pair of black stiletto shoes connected them to the floor, while the transition towards the rest of the body was made by a blue wool, tight-fitting dress. The shoulder-length hair was even blonder than I remembered while the eyes had remained the same odd shade of gray most men found fascinating.

In two words: Lauren Mallory.

"_Bonsoir_," she spoke, taking us all in. Her eyes fell on me where they lingered.

I felt my blood starting to boil in anger. So this was all this was about; mom trying to force Lauren on me even though I had clearly told her I wasn't interested. I had half a mind to simply leave, but that would have been exaggerated on my part.

"Lauren, how nice of you to join us this evening," Mom gushed, giving her a hug. "_Tu es ravissante, ma cherie_."

She smiled almost shyly, returning the hug. "_Merci_."

"Lauren just came back from Rwanda a couple of days ago," Mom explained, looking at her adoringly. "She was there for over three months getting involved in different noble causes. I thought that deserved a proper welcoming."

Complete silence. The tension was suddenly very thick in the room, and everyone could feel it, except for my mother.

Eventually, Rosalie chimed in, "I didn't know you two were such good friends. But it's nice to see you, Lauren."

"Thank you." She smiled brightly, showing off her cosmetically whitened teeth. "It's good to see you, too. All of you." As she said the last sentence, she looked at me again meaningfully.

I remained impassive, trying to rein in the indignation and disgust that were starting to take over me. I wasn't disgusted with Lauren, per se, because she really was a beautiful woman and no man in his right state of mind could say otherwise. She had her flaws, but overall she was a decent person. At least when she wanted to be. But my mother's scheming and plotting behind my back was really getting to me. What the hell was wrong with her trying to control my life like that? And she even had the gall to complain that I didn't come see her as often.

"You do remember Edward, don't you?" she said, not even having the decency to hide her matchmaking intentions.

"Of course I do," Lauren hurried to answer. "Hello, Edward. Long time no see."

I nodded stiffly. "Lauren."

Mom pretended to be oblivious to the cold greeting I was treating Lauren with. She clasped her hands in front of her in a content manner. "Now we're ready to eat. Everyone please step into the dining room."

We all headed towards the dining room as requested. Once at the table, I went to my usual seat, holding the chair for Jessica who always sat next to me.

"Jessica darling, that seat is for Lauren," Mom said, motioning for Jess to come to her. "You can sit next to me."

Jessica looked up at me powerlessly. I could tell she didn't want to yield her chair to Lauren, but she didn't want to confront her severe grandmother either. I nodded, silently communicating her to do as she was told. There was no need in starting an argument over table seating arrangements.

Lauren quickly replaced her in the seat which I politely pushed towards the table. I wasn't about to be rude to her because of my mother.

The first dish was served; a bowl of creamy vegetable soup that I'd used to hate as a child. Now in my adulthood years, I found it pretty tasty. No one at the table was speaking, the soup in front of them seeming to have captivated their attention. Emmett, the most gluttonous of us, was digging in with gusto, in contradiction with my father who barely touched his food. Dad wasn't a big fan of soups of any kind. He sipped on his wine, throwing pointed looks towards the other end of the table where my mother sat. She ignored him, focusing back on her favorite person in the room.

"Tell me, Lauren," she started, putting her spoon down. "How was Rwanda? You look so thin and tan and simply gorgeous."

Lauren followed my mom's gesture, excited to answer that particular question. "It was very soliciting but also very rewarding. The food was terrible; not even close to what I'm used to." She paused to scrunch her nose for effect, and I actually refrained from rolling my eyes at her. She'd been to Africa; what did she expect?

"I mostly ate fruits, rice and sweet potatoes, and I lost about eleven pounds, but it was worth the sacrifice. We got to help a lot of people."

"I admire you" Mom said reverently, reaching for her water. "I wouldn't have made it a week there, much less three months."

"It definitely feels good to be back home. I missed Chicago. I even missed the wind. I would take wind over rain any time."

"It gets really rainy on winters there, right?" Emmett asked taking a small break from eating. He seemed genuinely curious.

"Well, Rwanda's relatively high altitude provides it with a tropical highland climate, albeit also with plenty of rain. Rwanda's long rainy season lasts from about March to May, when the rain is heavy and persistent. Then from June to mid-September is the long dry season, and then October to November is a shorter rainy season and it's followed by a short dry season from December to February," Lauren explained patiently.

"So what exactly did you do there?"

"Well, I got enrolled in a United Nations World Food Program that supports school feeding. By giving out free meals, you're giving an incentive to parents and to kids to come to school. So it was actually a double cause. You get to alleviate the poverty those kids have to endure by offering them free, well-balanced meals, and at the same time you make sure they get a proper education."

"Wow, that's really noble. Did you hear that?" Rosalie said, addressing her daughter. "Next time you complain about my salmon and lentils recipe, you'd better think twice about it."

"I hate lentils," Jessica muttered under her breath, frowning down at her bowl of soup.

Mom decided to cut in, using her sweetest voice. "How's your mother, Lauren?"

Lauren chuckled, wiping at the corner of her mouth delicately. "She's still in France. Last I heard from her she was having a cocktail on a beach in _Côte d'Azur."_

Mom sighed exaggeratedly. "I miss her terribly. Tell her to come home already."

"She found herself a new French boyfriend, so I don't think she plans on returning too soon."

Everyone at the table seemed amused to some degree by her answer. Conversation flew smoothly after that. The only persons who didn't find Lauren's adventures in Africa that interesting were Jessica, Alice and me. When she began recalling the time when she broke one nail and had to cut off all of them, I zoned out. All I wanted was to get out of there as soon as possible. Unfortunately for me, there were two more courses plus dessert, and I couldn't just get up and leave without a solid reason.

Sometime around the third course, Lauren turned to me. Mom was deep in conversation with Emmett, Jasper was talking to Dad, while Alice was showing Rosalie something on her phone.

"How have you been doing?" she inquired solemnly, leaning a bit closer. "I was really sad to hear about Tanya. I wish I could have made it to the funeral, but I was out of the country when it happened."

Lauren and I didn't know each other that well, but our mothers had been close friends for years. I think Tanya had actually known her a little better than I did.

"I'm fine," I replied with a forced smile. "Life must go on with or without my wife."

"Her death's first year anniversary is coming soon," she pointed out.

"Yes…" I trailed off, not getting where she was going with this.

"If there's anything I can do for you…"

"I'll let you know," I cut her off, going back to cutting my meat.

"Good," she went on, not put off by my unfriendly tone. "You look good, by the way. We should have coffee together sometime. We haven't spoken in years."

"This is a very busy period for me," I said, not wanting to lead her on.

She was quiet for a minute. I could feel her intense stare fixed on my profile. When she spoke again, it was low and very close to my ear.

"I don't want to be intrusive, but are you seeing someone? You seem like you're blowing me off," she murmured, her hot breath fanning over my skin.

"I'm not seeing anyone," I lied, because I knew for sure she was going to be gossiping to my mother as soon as I mentioned another's woman name. "I just don't feel like dating at the moment."

She chuckled, reaching over to pat my left knee. "Who said anything about dating? I just want to have coffee with you."

_~~ 0 ~~_

I made it to Isabella's apartment well after ten. It was late and we were both working the next morning, but after more than three hours in Lauren's presence I was almost desperate to see her.

She opened the door, and I inhaled sharply at the sight of her. She had on a light green camisole and drawstring short pajama set matched with a pair of very comfortable looking indoor flip flops. I took her in, from her French pedicure, to her silky, creamy legs, the cleavage that showed no sign of a bra, her pouty, slightly reddish lips, and to her long chocolate-brown hair hanging loose across her left shoulder. She looked amazing. So casual, yet so sexy.

"Hey." She smiled, stepping aside to let me in.

I acted on impulse. Taking one large step towards her, I wrapped my arms around her waist, pushing the door close with my foot. She yelped, not expecting the sudden contact, and I brought my mouth to hers fervently. I didn't waste any time in pushing my tongue past her lips and deepening the kiss. It was intense; bordering on frenzy. But most importantly, it was marked by the newly developed sense of urgency burning inside of me. I wanted her. I wanted her so badly, it was downright painful.

Usually, I was very good at controlling myself; refusing to let my urges take over me.

But not tonight.

I let my hands slid down her back until they reached her ass. I squeezed her, probably firmer than I had intended to, pulling her to me until our bodies were flush against each other. It was a bold move on my part, but to my relief she didn't protest against it. On the contrary. She let out a weak, barely heard moan, bringing her arms around my neck. Knowing she was enjoying it as much as I was spurred me on. I kissed her and massaged her backside until I was so hard, I was having problems forming coherent thoughts. The feel of her breasts rubbing against my chest was driving me insane with want. I needed the physical contact like a dehydrated man needs water. I needed to be with her. But I couldn't. Not yet. There was something at the back of my mind keeping me from taking that final step.

Breaking the kiss, I looked down at her through a lustful haze. She had her eyes closed while her parted lips were deliciously swollen.

"Wow," she breathed in awe, and I began peppering soft kisses down her neck.

"Hi," I murmured against her skin, reaching her collarbone and nipping on it with my teeth. "I missed you."

She chuckled, running her fingers through my hair. "You just saw me this morning."

"I still missed you."

"How was dinner at your parents'?"

I huffed. "Torture."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah."

"I have dessert," she offered. "You want some?"

Oh, I wanted some, but not the kind of dessert she had in mind.

"Later," I replied, pulling back. I took of my coat, jacket and shoes, taking her hand in mine and guiding her towards the living room. I lay down on the couch, bringing her on top of me. She rested her head on my chest and I closed my eyes, enjoying the feel of her so close to me.

"What happened?" she asked, touching my shirt where I knew the recent stain was.

"Lauren managed to…" I started saying, realizing only too late I had mentioned Lauren, "… spill wine on me."

"Who's Lauren?" she asked, and there was something in her tone akin to anger.

I opened my eyes and saw that she was watching me with a deep frown. I really had no desire to tell her how my mother was trying to set me up with another woman. I wasn't interested in Lauren, but Isabella didn't know that and I didn't want to worry her for nothing. So, my answer, even though it was the absolute truth, was a bit evasive.

"She's some family friend."

* * *

><p><strong>AN Oh but Bella already knows who Lauren is, doesn't she?**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~ Andreea ~**

**P.S. Also, the lovely Jen created a FB group for TPB. I'll post the link on my profile, so make sure to check it out.**


	13. Chapter 12: Remorseful

**A/N I was a bit baffled that many of you thought that if everybody showed up at the dinner, it meant they were at Esme's beck and call. They all came because they found it odd that Esme invited them to dinner on a Wednesday and they thought it was really important. So, by doing that, Esme was being sneaky . She knew they wouldn't have come just for Lauren.**

**And… I heart my beta Nikki :X:X**

**Enjoy the update :)**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

**Isabella Pov**

* * *

><p><em>~ December 23<em>_rd__, 2011 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

"Well, well," the snarky voice cut through my blissful unconsciousness like a chainsaw. "What do we have here?"

I was lying on something soft but firm at the same time. I was pretty sure it wasn't a pillow, because it was moving and making soft noises. It almost sounded like… snore noises. Frowning, I forced my eyes open. Through foggy vision, I could make out something white bearing a striking resemblance to an undershirt. Then there was skin –pale, familiar-looking skin- and finally… hair. Chest hair.

Letting my gaze trail upwards, I saw a prominent Adam's apple, a cleft chin, a stubbly, well-defined jaw line, a perfectly straight nose, long eyelashes and bushy eyebrows. The events of the previous night came to my mind with the unexpected force of a flashback. We had been lying on the couch when I noticed the stain on his shirt and asked about it. He had lied to me about that Lauren woman. Well… in part. I didn't push for the truth, and we had ended up falling asleep while watching TV.

Angela was standing, still dressed in her blue scrubs. She had her hands in the pants' pockets and was smirking down at me knowingly.

"What?" I muttered, brushing some stray strands from my face. "Go away."

"He looks kind of hot with his shirt off," she said, eyeing Edward appreciatively.

I groaned, propping my elbows on each side of his torso. "Go away, Angela," I said again, not in the mood to deal with her. Reaching into Edward's front pocket, I took out his phone and checked the time. It was late. Luckily for me, I didn't have classes in the morning, but Edward had to go to work.

"Edward," I murmured, running the back of my fingers over his cheek. "You need to wake up."

"Mmm," he grunted, his brow furrowing. I continued caressing his cheek and eventually he peered at me under his lashes, his mouth twisting into a smile. "Hey," he said, his thick morning voice sending shivers down my back.

"Hey." I offered a smile of my own in return. "You're late for work."

"What?" His eyes opened wide as he started glancing around, probably looking for a clock. He saw Angela standing next to the couch with a smirk on her face and he groaned loudly. "Oh, no. What time is it?"

"Ten to eight," I said, holding out his phone.

He took it from me, glanced at the display then started to get up. "Great. I'm already late."

I lifted myself off him, and we both rose to our feet.

"Hello, Angela," he acknowledged her with a slight nod, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands to chase the sleep away.

"Morning, Sunshine," she replied merrily. "Nice biceps."

"Shut up," I muttered, already hunting for his shirt which he had discarded just before we both fell asleep. He had complained it was too hot, and I had encouraged him to take it off. Can you blame me? To say he had a great body was like stating the obvious. The many years of regularly frequenting the gym were showing in all the right places.

I found the wrinkled shirt under the coffee table and briefly wondered how the hell it had gotten there. "Do you want me to make you a quick breakfast?" I said, handing it to him. "Or at least some coffee?"

"No, thank you," he declined politely, getting dressed. "I need to get going." He buttoned up quickly then leaned down to kiss my forehead. "I'll let myself out. You girls be good." He winked playfully, turning around and hurrying out of the room. A minute later, the closing of the front door announced his exit.

"Bye, sexy," Angela yelled, a little too late for Edward to hear her.

I glared at her silently.

"What?" She shrugged innocently.

"Nothing. How was work?"

"Meh." She sighed, plopping down on the vacant couch. "Some punk yelled at me that I was incompetent. He said it hurt when I changed the bandage on his appendicitis surgery. Then a very 'nice,'" she used her fingers to make air quotes , "two hundred year-old grampa threw his pudding at me because it tasted like shit. It's hospital food, what did he expect? And last but not least, some blonde bimbo lectured me for about twenty minutes about how 'her hubby likes his pillows soft and the bed to an eighty-five degree angle'. Not ninety or eighty; eighty-five. I almost slapped her. And it all happened in the span of two hours."

"Wow," I sympathized. "It's a miracle you didn't kill anyone by now."

"I know," she agreed, throwing an arm over her forehead theatrically. "Anyway. What was Edward doing here?"

"He came by last night and we fell asleep," I explained vaguely. "Are you still mad?"

"Not really," she said nonchalantly, her face turning pensive for a moment. "But you need to introduce me to this Alice chick."

"Okay," I said, spotting an elastic hair holder on the coffee table. I picked it up, pulling my morning mess of a hair into a loose ponytail. "That reminds me, I have to call her."

"This early?" She frowned. "Why?"

"I'll fill you in later," I promised, making my way to my bedroom. My phone was lying in the middle of the bed, and I plopped down on my stomach, dialing Alice's number.

"Hey, girlfriend," she greeted, sounding awfully cheerful for eight a.m.

I chuckled. "Hi. You seem… chipper this morning."

"I'm always chipper," she shot back, letting out a snicker. "So, what's up? Why are you calling? Not that I mind or anything, but I'm guessing there's a good reason behind this matutinal call."

"Should I be worried about Lauren?" I blurted out, unable to hold my tongue anymore.

Every since the night before when Edward had mentioned her, it was all I could think about. Even though I hadn't pressed him for more information, I was sure she was the same Lauren Jessica had told me about a while back. Lauren Mallory, if I remembered correctly. The same woman Edward's mother wanted him to end up with. Only the thought of him being in her presence was enough to set me on fire. I didn't even know the woman, but I already hated her. Which, I admitted to myself, was kind of crazy and possessive on my part. Maybe she wasn't even interested in him romantically. But no matter what reason said, my heart was leading, pushing me into doing stupid stuff like calling Alice to find out more about Lauren instead of simply talking to Edward.

There was a moment of pregnant silence before she spoke again. "What do you mean?"

I sighed, closing my eyes and wishing I could take my words back. I was actually tempted to hang up, but it would have been rude on my part. The deed was already done. I continued timidly, biting on my lower lips so hard, I was afraid I was going to draw blood, "I know she was there last night."

"Edward told you?" she said carefully.

"Yeah. But he failed to mention that his mother is trying to set him up with her," I replied, my voice suddenly so laced with biting sarcasm that it took me by surprise. I made me feel like I had no control over myself when it came to Edward, and I hated it.

"Well, I already warned you. The woman is relentless when she sets her mind on something."

"So, should I be worried about her?" I asked again, nervous to know the answer. If Lauren had the approval of Edward's mother, she was already one step ahead of me.

"No," Alice answered gently. "Edward has no interest in Lauren. I can assure you of that. I think it's obvious that he's quite taken with you." There were some noises I couldn't make out in the background, and she added hurriedly, "Look, I have to go. I'm about to get into a meeting. I'll talk to you later?"

"Sure," I said, relieved and disappointed at the same time. I was relieved that by putting an end to the conversation Alice was stopping the avalanche of questions that was about to fall from my lips. I was disappointed for the exact same reason. My curiosity was killing me, but so was the guilt of knowing that I was going behind Edward's back in order to find the answers to my questions. "Have a good day at work."

"Thanks. You too."

She hung up, and I remained staring at the peach wall in front of me blankly.

"By the way, I have news," Angela spoke from where she stood, leaning against the doorway.

I glanced over to her questioningly. "Good or bad?"

She shrugged in a nonchalant manner, but I could see the ghost of a smile on her lips. "It depends," she said, reaching up to toy with her necklace absently. It was the silver necklace Ben had given her as a gift for her twentieth birthday and which she had never taken off ever since. It had a gorgeous crescent moon pendant with a small engraving on the back saying "I love you to the moon and back".

Realizing I had noticed the way her fingers were glued to the pendant like it was the most precious thing in the world, she let go of it immediately. Clearing her throat, she mumbled her next words, making it almost impossible for me to make them out. "I spoke to Ben yesterday and agreed to have dinner with him tonight."

I started at her, not sure I had heard her right. When her cheeks began coloring and she avoided meeting my eyes, preferring to focus her attention on my brown patterned curtains, I let out an excited squeal. "That's great! Are you going to get back together?"

"I don't know. We'll see where this date goes."

"So, it _is_ a date," I teased, truly happy that she was ready to give him another chance.

She rolled her eyes, doing her best to put out a cool and collected façade, even though I could bet she was a nervous wreck on the inside. "Girl plus boy plus fancy restaurant. I think that's the definition of a date, no matter what he says."

I smiled. "And what does he say?"

"That it's not a date."

"You know he only told you that so you wouldn't freak out about it, don't you?"

"Whatever," she dismissed me with a wave. "I'm going to sleep. See you… whenever."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Later that day, I was at work when I got a call from Edward. I answered with a big grin on my face, my heart skipping a beat at seeing his name flashing on the screen.

"Do you happen to have dinner plans?" he asked directly, foregoing small talk.

"No," I replied, leaning with my elbows on the sales counter and loving his bluntness. "Why do you ask?"

"I want to make it up to you for last night," he said, his voice dropping to seductive tonality. "How does pizza at my place sound?"

My grin widened as butterflies born of anticipation made their presence known. "It sounds great."

"It's set then," he murmured, and last's night memory assaulted me once again. His lips meshing against mine fervently… my breasts pressing against his hard chest… his large palms kneading my butt in a very suggestive manner…

The man was sex on legs, and I didn't think he even realized the effect he had on me.

"When do you get off work?"

"Seven," I answered, trying very hard to remain coherent.

"Perfect," he purred with satisfaction. "I have a busy day ahead, so I'll just pick you up from the bookstore."

_~~ 0 ~~_

"Let me get that for you," Edward said, taking my coat and hanging it in the nearby closet.

"Thank you," I replied with a grateful smile, leaning down to take off my boots.

As I straightened up, I noticed he was frowning.

"What?" I asked.

"I forgot to call Susan," he admitted sheepishly, glancing my way. "I wonder how fast she can get here if I call her now."

"Edward, you're not calling her," I admonished. "I can make pizza."

He shook his head, looking displeased. "We can order. You don't have to cook."

I arched an eyebrow at him challengingly. "Who says I'll be the only one cooking?"

"Fair enough," he laughed, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on my lips. "But first, I'm going to change into more comfortable clothes."

He turned on his heels, starting to head towards his bedroom.

"I could use a t-shirt," I uttered, looking down at the heavy knitted sweater I had on.

He stopped in his tracks, obvious surprise coloring his features.

"It's going to get pretty hot in the kitchen," I reasoned, blushing furiously when his intense gaze trailed down my body, lingering on my torso. Slowly, the corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk, and it took me a moment to realize the double meaning of what I'd just said.

I let out an amused sound, something between a groan and a laugh. "Because of the oven, Edward."

"I'll see what I can do about that." He winked playfully, disappearing from sight.

Taking my bag with me, I made my way to the living room. I tossed the bag on one of the armchairs, grabbing the remote from the coffee table and turning on the large plasma TV. I settled for the news, but remained standing as I waited for Edward.

He showed up about ten minutes later holding a white t-shirt with green horizontal stripes.

"It's the smallest one I could find," he said, placing it on my shoulder. His hands wrapped around my middle section as his moist lips descended to the side of my neck a couple of times. He was getting more carefree and hands on with each passing day, and I loved it.

"Thank you," I murmured, ogling him appreciatively. He now had on a pair of black sweatpants and a long-sleeved t-shirt that he had rolled up to his elbows. His damp hair was slacked back, and the musky scent of his shower gel instantly invaded my nostrils.

I inhaled deeply, and he looked at me apologetically. "I took a shower. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," I assured him weakly, running my palms up and down his biceps. His scent and closeness were making it harder and harder for me to form coherent thoughts. Giving him a light peck, I tried to extract myself from his embrace before it was too late and I melted in a puddle of my own hormones at his bare feet.

"Where are you going?" he protested, not letting go.

"To the bathroom to change," I said.

He grinned mischievously, dropping his voice to a sultry whisper. "I've seen bras before."

Encouraged, by his playful demeanor, I retorted in kind, "What if I'm not wearing one?"

He chuckled huskily. "I've seen breasts, too."

"Shocking," I gasped in mock outrage, fighting not to let on how his words affected me. "You are such a pervert."

"I know," he said, rubbing my ass before slapping it gently a few times. He kissed the corner of my mouth, pulling away from me and lying down on his stomach on the leather couch. "Go change."

He started zapping through channels, and I spun around reluctantly, heading towards the bathroom.

I had to admit, I was a bit confused. It was clear as day there was a lot of sexual chemistry between us, and yet he had never tried to take things further than a little groping. It was kind of frustrating, because I wanted him to. I wanted him to leave the chivalry aside and ravish me. Yeah, I'd said it. My biggest wish was to be ravaged by Edward Anthony Cullen, amazingly attractive estate lawyer and important investor in several large businesses throughout Chicago. I even found his middle name –which he had once mentioned in passing- sexy as hell.

_Anthony…_

_Edward Anthony…_

_Edward Anthony Cullen… perfection incarnated._

I was infatuated with his smile…

I was fascinated by the small cleft in his chin that gave his appearance such a masculine allure…

I was absorbed by the mysterious abysms that were his green eyes…

I was awed by the striking color of his soft hair…

I was captivated with the way his long fingers flexed when he brought his drink to his voluminous lips…

I was entranced by the lean shape of his tall body…

I was…

I was pathetic.

Many months without sex would do that to you. Add the sexual frustration Edward was inflicting on me with each passing day, and I was sure I was soon going to do something stupid, like attack him when he least expected it.

With a sigh, I closed the door behind me, walking over to the mirror above the sink. I removed my sweater, which only left me with my black lace bra on. Cocking my head to the side, I inspected my breasts attentively. They weren't too big, but they weren't small either; just enough to fill a medium-sized hand.

My gaze trailed down to my narrow waist which I had always considered to be the best part of my body, and to my hips that were slightly wider than my upper body. By everyone else's standards, I had a very nice hourglass shape. By my standards, I was just average. I didn't have the long, slim legs I yearned for. I didn't have the light-colored eyes I had always dreamed of. And I certainly didn't own that perfectly tan skin so many women these days consider a must. The only think I really liked about me was my hair. It was long and shiny and had a really rich chocolate-brown nuance.

Looking back down at my breasts, I tightened the straps on the bra, lifting them a little higher. I pulled the t-shirt over my head then leaned down to splash some water over my face, careful not to touch the mascara I had on. I dabbed my face dry with a towel, reaching into my jeans' pocket and pulling out a hair band. I gathered my precious locks in a messy bun then threw one last glance in the mirror before making my exit.

Edward was waiting for me in the kitchen.

"I hope I have all the ingredients we need," he said over his shoulder, peering inside the refrigerator. "Susan usually keeps the fridge pretty well stocked."

"We'll make do with what you have," I replied, walking over to him and starting to take things out. I found mozzarella, tomatoes, bell peppers, salami and even some button mushrooms.

"Here." I handed him a knife and chopping board. "While I make the dough, you're in charge of slicing the tomatoes, mushrooms and everything else."

"Yes, ma'am." He saluted playfully, and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Get to work," I ordered, motioning towards the waiting ingredients.

He chuckled, leaning over to whisper in my ear, "I like it when you're bossy."

I flushed, but offered him a smile nonetheless.

He set to work, and I began searching the cabinets for flour, salt and a bowl to make the dough in. Since he never used them, Edward had no idea where any of the kitchen utensils were. He pointed out that he did know where the silverware was, but as for the rest I had to fend for myself.

As I was dropping a thin piece of butter into the flour to make the dough fluffier, I glanced at Edward to see how he was doing. To my amusement, he had a very concentrated look on his face as he sliced half of bell pepper. His lips were pursued and his eyes were narrowed as he focused intensely on the slow movements of the knife he was holding.

All of the sudden, the conversation I'd had with Alice came to mind. An involuntary frown took over my expression as I glanced back down at the glass bowl in front of me. I continued kneading the dough until the final result was a puffy, soft ball; all the while trying to talk myself into approaching the Lauren subject with Edward.

After a while, I covered the bowl with a kitchen towel and with a resigned sigh, I turned to address him.

"Edward."

"Hmm?" he murmured, not looking up.

I leaned against the kitchen island, placing my palms on the hard granite surface behind me and working up the courage to get the words out. When he realized I was quiet, he glanced at me questioningly.

"Why didn't you tell me the truth about Lauren?" I asked softly.

He looked taken aback for a moment, but recovered quickly. Setting the knife down, he angled his body towards me, placing a hand next to mine on the countertop. "What do you mean?" he said cautiously.

"I know your mother wants the two of you together," I muttered, fighting to hide the jealousy eating at me but failing horribly.

"How do you know that?" he spoke with a certain edge to his voice.

"Jessica mentioned it once," I answered guardedly, and his eyebrows knitted together with discontent. I had a hard time figuring out if he was angry at me or at Jessica for spilling the beans about Lauren.

"Did she?" he muttered, averting his gaze towards the large windows. It was snowing abundantly outside, and he remained fixed on the rapidly falling snowflakes for quite some time. He seemed to be thinking hard about something, and I would have given anything to have the power to read his thoughts.

"I know we're not in a relationship or anything…" I began to say, but he interrupted me.

"Isabella…" he said, trailing off abruptly as he came to stand in front of me. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Lauren. I really only wanted to spare you the knowledge of my mother's manipulative ways. I'm not interested in her. You're the only woman I have eyes for. All I ask for is a little more time to learn how to cope with these new feelings I began harboring for you."

I inhaled sharply.

"Feelings?" I uttered in wonder, staring up at him hopefully.

"I care for you," he confessed, trailing the back of his fingers across my cheekbone. "More than you know."

He leaned down to place a gentle, barely-there kiss on the tip of my nose before continuing, "Not to mention the wild attraction your body exerts on me. I want you. In all the ways possible," he murmured, his eyes washing over me hungrily and causing a shiver to run down my spine.

"And I will have you," he promised, pressing his mouth to mine. "And you will have me. Soon."

"How soon?" I breathed, my lids heavy as I peered up at him.

"Very soon."

Placing his hands on my hips, he pulled me closer to his body. He languidly kissed my collarbone, my neck and finally the lobe of my ear. When he was done lavishing my skin with wet kisses, he pulled out a stool and sat on it, lifting me so that I was in his lap with my legs on each side of his.

"On a more serious note…" he said, our faces mere inches apart as his large palms ran up and down my back. "I now know for a fact that I want more with you."

"Then ask me to be your girlfriend," I blurted out, waiting for his reaction apprehensively.

"Girlfriend…" he mulled over the notion, cracking a smile. "I haven't used that word in a long time. It makes me feel ancient."

"You're still good looking for your age," I teased, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"My age?" He laughed. "Are you implying that I'm old?"

I shrugged. "You're the one who said you feel ancient."

"Sometimes I do," he admitted, going back to looking a bit pensive.

He remained silent, staring off into space.

But I needed to know. I needed to know what he really wanted from me. I _had_ to know that I wasn't just a transient phase in his fast-paced life. I wanted the assurance that I was more than a friend he sometimes kissed and touched indecently.

"Are you going to ask me?" I insisted, and he tsked in annoyance, scowling at me.

"Is a label that important to you?"

"No," I muttered sulkingly. "…Yes."

With a heavy sight, Edward shook his head, lowering his gaze to my lap.

"I feel like I'm betraying her," he murmured, the frown he was wearing, deepening.

"Tanya?" I asked, a lump suddenly strangling my throat.

"I know it's absurd, but…"

"It's not," I assured, turning my head away.

Deep into my gut, a new fear was making its presence known. It was the fear that he was never going to get over his deceased wife; that no matter how hard I was going to try, her memory will have him stuck in the past with no way of getting out.

And then, to my complete shame, that fear was overcome by the green-eyed monster known as jealousy. After all, jealousy is usually born out of fear, so in a way the two feelings were completing each other. I was starting to realize that my previous worries concerning Lauren were now pretty ill-founded. She wasn't the one I had to be weary about. My real rival to Edward's heart wasn't even alive anymore. It was a pretty daunting notion having to compete with a glorified ghost.

And the worst part?

_I_ was already starting to fall for him.

When the single bitter tear dripped down my cheek, I became aware of the fact that I had allowed my emotions to get the best of me.

"What are you doing?" Edward inquired slightly panicked, taking hold of my chin and making me look him in the eye.

I reached up and wiped the tear away, blinking rapidly to keep the other ones at bay.

"What did I tell you earlier?" he admonished, staring at me with blazing intensity.

I shrugged, sniffing and giving him a weak smile.

"I told you I care for you, did I not? Tanya was my wife for nine and a half years. It's not that easy to let go and pretend like she didn't exist. She was a very important part of my life for a long time."

"I know… I…"

"Can you let me do this at my own pace?"

"I'm sorry," I apologized sincerely. "I don't want to pressure you."

"You think that if I don't call you my girlfriend, I can't do this?" he whispered, kissing me on the mouth gently. "Or this?" he kissed my throat. "Or… this?" he trailed his lips down my chest, settling on the bare top of my right breast.

I felt my face getting hot, and he ran his thumbs along my cheekbones and up to my temples where he started rubbing slow circles. "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are when you blush like this?"

I shook my head and he smiled, pulling me flush to his chest as he buried his nose into my hair. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and we stayed like that for a long time.

He was the one to break the embrace. Still keeping me close to him, he next asked a question that took me by surprise.

"Do you want to spend Christmas with me?"

"What about your family?" I said doubtfully.

His only answer was an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

"Okay."

"Yeah?" he said excitedly, resembling a little boy who just got his way with something. It was endearing seeing this more cheerful part of him.

"Yeah," I replied in kind.

_~~ 0 ~~_

Later that evening, I was just getting the pizza out of the oven, when the intercom started buzzing. Edward threw me a confused look before abandoning the kitchen towel he was holding on the counter. He made his way to the front door and seconds later Peter's warm voice filled the silence.

"Sir, a Miss Denali is here to see you."

I frowned, placing the pan with the steaming pizza on the stove and taking off the oven glove I had on.

"Send her up," I heard Edward's quiet reply, and I wondered who this unexpected guest was.

I made quick work of slicing the crispy dough, and soon enough there was a knock at the door. The unmistakable sound of heels echoed through the spacious condo, finally reaching my ears.

"What are you doing here?" Edward spoke first, sounding surprised.

A soft feminine voice answered, "Jasper gave me the address. I hope you don't mind."

Unable to take it anymore, I headed out of the kitchen and into the hallway. As soon as I rounded the corner, my gaze fell upon a tall figure. She had long platinum blond hair falling freely over the short fur coat she was wearing. Sensing my presence, her head snapped in my direction, and I was met with steely blue eyes. She took me in from head to toe slowly, one of her eyebrows arching as she did so. Her callous scrutiny set my skin on fire, and I felt my face starting to redden for the millionth time that day.

Edward seemed at a loss for words for a moment. He glanced between us before extending one of his hands towards me introductorily. "This is Isabella. Isabella, this is Irina. Tanya's younger sister."

"Nice to meet you," I said politely, doing my best not to squirm under her frigid examination.

She stared some more but didn't respond, instead turning to Edward. "I need to talk to you."

"I can go to the kitchen, or leave…" I mumbled disconcerted.

"No," Edward said firmly, throwing Irina a warning look.

She huffed, clearly disbelieving the fact that he wanted me there for what was supposed to be their private conversation.

"Fine." Projecting a few signals denoting irritation, she removed her coat, not bothering to take off her high heel boots.

Edward motioned for her to step ahead of him towards the living room. Placing his hand on the small of my back, he pushed me in the same direction, giving me a hard, no-nonsense look when I refused to budge.

"You go," I said, taking a step back in the kitchen's direction.

He took hold of my wrist, stopping me. "Stop acting like a child, Isabella. She's not that bad."

Edward had to practically drag me. Irina was already seated in an armchair, and we occupied the couch. Even though she didn't seem much older than me, the woman intimidated me. She was shooting such cold looks my way; Narnia's White Witch paled in comparison.

Trying to avoid her stares, I concentrated my attention on the TV that was still on.

"I was thinking we should organize something for the 25th," she said, her calculated voice suddenly taking a softer tone. "That's if you're not too busy."

I could see Edward nod in my peripheral. "What did you have in mind?"

"Small gathering at my parents'," she answered, and I couldn't help but wonder what they were talking about. "It was actually Mom's idea."

"Of course," Edward said solemnly. "What do you need me to do?"

"Just be there. Mom and I will take care of everything else." She opened her purse, rummaging for something. "But I do need the number of the florist you used to buy her those beautiful Camelias from."

"Sure." He got up. "I think I have a card somewhere. I'll be right back."

As soon as Edward left the room, my heart started beating harder in my chest. I was a nervous wreck. I didn't want to be there, in the same confined space with the sister of the woman I was replacing to some degree.

"And who might you be?" she inquired after a couple of minutes of awkward silence, forcing me to look at her.

"A friend," I said evasively.

She chuckled humorlessly. "I wasn't born yesterday." Her eyes took me in again, this time almost curiously. "You're obviously very different from my sister. Well… I guess sometimes diversity can be good," she mused.

I was confused. Was she actually saying I was good for Edward?

Irina opened her mouth to speak again when Edward showed up, holding a small piece of paper.

"Here it is."

"Thanks." She took it from him, forgetting all about me. "Also, the 25th is on a Wednesday, so we'll have to make sure everyone can attend. I think seven is a good hour. Everyone gets off work by then. And on Saturday we can all go to the cemetery. The family, I mean. Do you want to order the bouquet for the grave yourself or should I do it?"

"I'll do it."

"Okay." Shoving the card into her wallet, Irina got up. "I'll go now. I don't want to be intruding."

"You're not," Edward said reassuringly. "We were just about to eat. Would you like to join us?"

She glanced at me, seeming to ponder her answer. If she wanted to ruin my evening with her ex brother-in-law, this was the perfect opportunity.

"No," she finally said, smiling at him lovingly. "I'm just passing by. I have to get home." She smoothed down her pencil skirt, throwing her purse over her shoulder and turning on her heels. "Good evening," she said, exiting the room with Edward in tow.

"Good evening," I called, letting out a deep breath and slumping back into the couch.

"Call me if there's anything you need help with," I heard Edward say as the door opened.

"I will." Her answer was followed by the sound of kissing then the echo of her boots hitting the marble flooring announced her departure. "Bye."

"What was that all about?" I asked when Edward came back.

"I'll tell you over dinner," he said, holding his hand out for me.

I dwelled on the guilt creeping up on me as I polished my second glass of wine and Edward was placing our dirty plates in the dishwasher. So, my whole jealousy fit had been in vain. The 25th of January was the day Tanya had died a year prior. Of course a relationship was the last thing on his mind, especially at this time of the year. I had once promised him I was going to give him time, and today I had stomped all over that promise.

Placing the glass on the countertop, I walked over to him. I circled his waist with my arms and rested my forehead on his back.

He finished his task then spun around to face me. Leaning down abruptly, he picked me up bridal style, making me squeal at the unexpected gesture.

He laughed and carried me down the long hallway. I glanced at him questioningly when we passed the living room and one of the bathrooms, but he kept on walking. Reaching a door at the end of the hallway, he pushed it open with his foot, stepping inside.

Looking around I saw it was a bedroom.

His bedroom.

He fell on top of me on the king-sized bed, his hands reaching up to cradle my face.

"Do you want to spend the night?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN Thanks for reading!**

**~ Andreea** ~


	14. Chapter 13: Joyful

**A/N For those of you who are not aware, I post teasers on both FB and Twilighted, but I'm currently more active on FB. You can find the links on my profile page.**

**Here goes…**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

**Edward Pov**

* * *

><p><em>~ December 24<em>_th__, 2011 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

I woke up the next morning with my face firmly pressed into my soft pillow. There was light penetrating through the crack where the heavy curtains met, and I turned my head in the other direction to avoid it. My eyes fell on Isabella's brown hair and a smile tugged at my lips. I was lying on my stomach with my hands under the pillow while she was on her side facing away from me. The sound of her steady breathing filled the silence, and I took a moment to just listen to it.

The notion that I had shared the bed with a woman, other than Tanya, was starting to really sink in. I had asked Isabella to spend the night, and even though she was reluctant to accept, in the end she did. As I lay there, analyzing how I felt about it, I realized that beside the satisfaction of having her so close and intimate, there was also a sense of guilt overshadowing the initial contentment. Surprisingly, this guilt had nothing to do with Tanya and any feelings that I might have left for her. No. It had to do with the fact that I had specifically told Isabella I wasn't ready for more, and yet I had manipulated her into staying anyway. Yes. By pleading and insisting that I didn't want to be alone, I had enforced my will on her, and that in anyone's terms is called manipulation. I didn't think it was intentional. Not really. But with the holidays so close and the condo so quiet and deserted, I needed the company. I had never been alone for Christmas and I didn't plan on starting now.

Not only did I enjoy having Isabella around, but the feelings I was starting to develop for her made me want to be with her day and night. And even though I desired her sexually, I had been a complete gentleman, letting her chose if she wanted to sleep in one of the guest rooms or in my bedroom. After briefly debating the matter, she had chosen my bedroom. I had offered her clothes to change into, and we had both slid under the covers, staying up chatting until late into the night.

Now… keeping my hands to myself hadn't been easy. She was soft and warm and feminine, and I was sexually deprived and sporting a painful erection. She had fallen asleep with her head on my chest and half of her body resting on mine, making it very hard to ignore the way her breasts pressed against my side. At some point, I had even considered getting out of bed and crashing on the couch instead, cursing the moment such a bad idea arose in my head. But I didn't want to leave her. The deed was done, and I had to grit my teeth and bear the consequences. So, doing a Herculean effort, I forced my eyes closed and willed myself to sleep.

I could have had her. The temptation was so big, I could have simply acted on impulse, letting my urges get the best of me. The only thing stopping me was the blind faith she was showing me by accepting to share a bed with a man who wasn't yet ready for a commitment. She trusted me not to take advantage of her, and I respected that.

During my struggle with the insomnia caused by Isabella's nearness, I had time to ponder the reason why I was still so reluctant to commit to her. And there was a simple, common-sense explanation for that. In order to give myself to Isabella completely, I had to leave Tanya behind. For that to happen, I felt like I needed to wait until her death's one year anniversary passed. Irina's visit the other night had been a complete surprise, but not an unpleasant one. She and I had always got along extremely well. Her idea of having a memorial for her sister was not only welcome, but also needed. Although I hadn't been _in love_ with Tanya for quite some time, I still loved her, and I strongly believed she deserved at least one year of mourning on my part. The passing of that year marked not only the ability of finally letting go and coping with the fact that she was gone forever, but also the critical point of leaving the past behind and orienting towards the future.

And it was strange how I was trying to somehow keep Isabella at arm's length but at the same time I couldn't wait to take things further. I wanted to honor Tanya, and every time I kissed Isabella or touched her like only a lover would, I was doing anything but that. In all honesty, I had no idea what the hell I was doing. I wanted us to take things slow, yet I was eager to speed up. I was eager for more. So much more. In fact, sometimes my eagerness went as far as thinking that maybe someday Isabella was going to be the most important person in my life, just like Tanya had been for so long. I even dared to hope that my biggest dream of having a family of my own wasn't going to remain something I fantasized about forever.

Isabella started to stir next to me, and I turned on my right side, inching closer to her.

"Morning," I breathed in her ear, wrapping an arm around her waist.

She sighed, turning onto her back and smiling up at me sleepily. "Morning."

With my hand now on her stomach, I leaned down to give her a soft kiss. She grimaced, turning her head to the side and causing my lips to land on her cheek instead.

"Morning breath," she protested, and I frowned.

"Yours or mine?"

She chuckled. "Mine."

"I don't mind," I said, trying again.

"I do," she replied with another chuckle, pushing me away.

Directing my lips downwards, I began placing small kisses on her neck.

"Mmm…" she moaned quietly, craning her neck to give me better access. Her skin was warm and slightly damp with sweat.

"You need a shower," I observed, pulling the comforter down to her waist.

"What?" She looked at me horrified.

"And so do I," I assured her with a laugh. "This thing is like a bear skin." I had half a mind to kick the heavy comforter until it was off of us, but not wanting to reveal my morning erection, I abandoned the idea. "Do you want to go first or should I? Since no one uses the other bathroom there isn't even soap in there, so we'll have to take turns."

"You go," she murmured, letting out a lazy yawn. "I'll doze off for a few more minutes."

"None of that nonsense," I scolded, pushing a few strands of hair from her face and tucking them behind her ear. "We need coffee. You can make it while I take my shower and then I'll make breakfast while you take yours."

"_You _are going to make _us_ breakfast?" she asked amusedly.

"Yes. I know how to boil eggs. Not to mention that I'm extremely skilled at pouring milk and cereal into a bowl," I said playfully.

She sighed heavily, turning onto her stomach and closing her eyes as she hugged her pillow.

"I'm craving French toast."

I sat up and stretched my arms over my head. "Unless you want me to burn down the building, you'll have to settle for cereal."

"Just… go take your shower." She waved me off dismissively, her eyes still closed.

"Not until you get out of the bed," I said, leaning over to tug at the large t-shirt she had on. I repeated the motion until she groaned in irritation and swatted my hand away.

"You are so mean," she whined, giving me a one-eyed glare. "Did you forget I'm not a morning person? _At all_."

I smirked. "Did you forget that _I _am?"

"Ugh."

With a huff, she sat up on the edge of the bed, fumbling on the nightstand for her phone. She checked the time, frowned, then rose to her feet, starting to drag herself out of the room.

I watched appreciatively as her slim form departed. Even though my short sweatpants were pretty large on her, they reached just below her knees, exposing her smooth, creamy ankles. The contentment I felt at seeing her wear my clothes brought back memories from a time when Tanya used to do the same thing. And although we hadn't put a label on what we had, deep inside I knew that contentment was mostly due to a sense of possessiveness that I wasn't even entitled to have. And yet… I couldn't help but feel that way.

Reluctantly, I made my way to the bathroom. As I stood under the shower spray, I contemplated whether to take care of my persistent erection or not.

Not only was I not the kind of man who found the process of jacking off that appealing, but the knowledge that Isabella was about eighty feet away, made me self-conscious. However, given the fact that she was supposed to spend another night in my bed, I was somehow forced to do it. Placing my palm against the shower stall, I closed my eyes and reached down to grab myself.

It was the first time in months that I had masturbated.

Stepping into the kitchen twenty minutes later, there was a bit of guilt hovering over me, knowing that I had used Isabella's body as visual stimulation to reach my release. But leaving the guilt aside, I had to admit I felt much better. I was more relaxed, and it was now safe for me to touch her without having to pitch a tent every time I did so.

Isabella stood in front of the stove, flipping a pancake. The TV was on while a strong smell of coffee lingered in the air. She didn't hear me come in, so I walked over to her, leaning down to kiss the nape of her bare neck.

"It smells delicious in here," I said, lifting her half-full mug from the counter and taking a sip.

She smiled over her shoulder briefly then went back to her task.

I poured myself some coffee while she finished making the pancakes.

"Sit," she ordered, nodding her head towards the table.

I did as she said, my stomach grumbling savagely at the delicious smell coming from the plate she set in front of me.

"Thank you," I said gratefully, grabbing the maple syrup.

She glanced at me over the rim of her mug, her brown eyes twinkling with merriment. "You're welcome."

I ate with gusto while Isabella took small bites, focusing her attention on the TV where a movie was playing. When we were done, she washed the dishes while I took a business call. She finished cleaning everything up just as I was hanging up. I motioned for her to come and sit in my lap.

"Do you have plans for today?" I asked.

She shrugged. "No. Why?"

"I was thinking you could help me pick out a few presents. I have no idea what to buy when it comes to the women in the family. Usually, Tanya was in charge with Christmas shopping. "

"Okay," she said, uneager.

I couldn't blame her. If they weren't my family, I probably wouldn't have wanted to get them presents either.

"And since you already agreed to spend Christmas with me, how about I take you home so you can pack an overnight bag?" I coaxed. "I also need help decorating the Christmas tree."

"Did you even buy one?"

"Of course I did. It should be delivered this afternoon."

"Okay. But wait." She suddenly frowned. "How am I supposed to buy you a present if I'm spending the entire day with you?"

I smiled indulgently. I didn't give a damn if she bought me something or not. All that mattered to me was having her close.

"You company is enough of a gift to me," I replied sincerely.

"Seriously, Edward," she said, repositioning herself in my lap so that her body was more angled towards mine. "I know I should have thought of it sooner. Usually, I never leave my Christmas shopping to the last minute, but this year I've been working late and I had more classes, and then there was spending time with you, and …"

"I really don't mind," I cut off her babbling. "As you can see, I _do _leave my Christmas shopping to the last moment. I hate shopping of any kind. I never know what to get."

"So, what, when it was Tanya's birthday, did you hire someone to get your wife a present?" she joked.

I chuckled. "No. I always got her jewelry. So don't expect anything too creative. I'm getting you the same thing."

"Nuh-uh." She shook her head adamantly. "If I can't buy you a gift, neither can you."

I scowled, not liking the fact that she was conditioning me. If we were to have a future together, she had to get used to the fact that I enjoyed spoiling the woman I cared for. Although I wasn't a fan of the actual shopping process, I did like offering small attentions from time to time. I was a very impulsive person in both business and love, and when I felt like showing my appreciation, I did so without thinking twice about it.

"I'm not sure I like that idea very much, Isabella."

"Edward," she said sternly.

I sighed, a bit annoyed. "Can't you just get me something afterwards? I already bought it."

"What? When?"

"A few days ago. It's just a pair of earrings," I said, making an evasive gesture.

"Edward…"

"If it makes you feel better, I won't get you anything for your birthday," I tried to compromise.

Although Isabella didn't seem convinced, she eventually let it go, but didn't look too happy about it. We finished taking our daily caffeine doses with her still perched up on my lap while continuing to watch TV. At some point, I noticed she had stopped watching the movie and was staring at me with a pensive look on her face.

I looked back at her questioningly.

"Isn't your mother going to be mad that you're not spending Christmas Eve with them?" she voiced her worry, biting down on her lower lip nervously.

I nodded in agreement. "She's going to be furious. But after the stunt she pulled on Wednesday, she deserves it."

"Do you think Lauren is going to be there?"

"I'm certain," I replied openly, glad that the other night she had somehow forced me to tell her the truth about Lauren. I found no joy in keeping such things from her. "That's one more reason not to go."

_~~ 0 ~~_

While Isabella took her shower, I washed our mugs and cleaned the coffee maker which happened to be the only kitchen appliance I actually knew how to use. When I was done, I headed over to the bedroom to change into a pair of jeans and a white v-neck sweater. Just as I was putting on socks, Isabella emerged from the bathroom, already dressed in her clothes from the other day.

"Do you happen to have a spare toothbrush?" she asked, running my comb through her still dry, long hair.

"I have no idea. Have you checked the cabinets?"

"Yeah."

"Use mine," I offered.

She smirked teasingly. "Are you sure you want my germs?"

"Germs don't scare me," I retorted in kind, making sure to lower my voice seductively. "Especially if they're yours."

She laughed heartily, rolling her eyes at me. "You're such a sweet talker."

Spinning on her heels, she made her way back into the bathroom, leaving me alone once again. Somewhere in the distance my phone started ringing, and I got up, heading towards the source of the noise.

I found it lying on the kitchen table. Picking it up, I saw my mother's name flashing on the display and groaned sufferingly. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for an unpleasant conversation.

"Yes, Mother?" I answered, keeping my tone flat.

"Edward, darling," she purred contently. "I just wanted to let you know that dinner is at eight as usual. We'll be exchanging gifts at midnight."

"I'm not coming," I said.

There was a pregnant pause before she spoke again. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not coming," I repeated more firmly, steeling myself for what I knew was about to come.

"What do you mean, you're not coming?" she demanded, her voice suddenly sharp and devoid of any trace of amiability.

"I have other plans tonight, but I'll make sure to stop by tomorrow for lunch," I replied, doing my best to sound reasonable.

However, my mother knew of no such notion as reasonableness. Things had to be done _her _way. "Other plans? Edward Anthony, what in the world are you talking about? What can be more important than spending the holidays with your family?"

It was my turn to be silent. She was giving me no other choice but to be sincere.

"I've met someone."

"Someone…" she uttered, sounding surprised, "…as in a woman?"

"Yes."

"Who is she?" she inquired, sounding more curious than upset. "Do I know her?"

I almost wanted to laugh in response to her question. I knew my mother well. I was willing to bet she was already picturing Isabella to be one of those pretentious, spoiled women frequenting her social circle.

"No, you don't."

For a few seconds she seemed to be mulling over what would be the best approach. She clearly wasn't pleased that I had kept the fact that I was dating from her, but she wasn't against me going on with my life either. In fact, judging by her insistences that I should give Lauren a chance, she wanted me to settle down again as soon as possible.

"Well, then bring her along. I'd like to meet her. Although I'm not sure Elsa and Rick are going to be very happy to see you have moved on. Not that there is anything wrong with moving on, but they're still mourning their daughter. Oh, Lauren is going to be so disappointed. She really hoped to get to know you better," she lamented with a hint of regret, pausing for effect. When I didn't reply, she went on, sounding a bit more excited. "But tell me. Who is she? When did you meet?"

I sighed heavily, wishing she would stop with the interrogatory. "Her name is Isabella. I met her three months ago."

"What a lovely name," Mom gushed. "Is she from Chicago?"

"No, she's from Washington," I said vaguely.

"Oh, so she's from the capital."

"No."

"No?" she said, and I could imagine her eyebrows knitting together. "Oh, you mean the state? Well, Seattle is nice. Eleanor White is originally from Seattle," she perked up almost instantly at the mention of her obnoxiously rich acquaintance. "You do remember Eleanor, don't you?"

"I do," I muttered gruffly. "Isabella's not from Seattle."

"I'm confused."

"She's from Forks."

"Forks?" she rolled the word on her tongue like it belonged to a foreign language. "What in God's name is _Forks_? It sounds so… rural."

In that moment, I knew it was time for me to end the conversation. "Look, Mom, I'm sorry I won't be there tonight. I promise I'll come by tomorrow."

"Edward, wait," she said, now alarmed. "Who is this woman? Who did you get involved with?"

"I'm going to hang up now. See you tomorrow."

"Edwa…"

As I was shoving the phone into my front pocket, Isabella made an appearance. She had her hair pulled up in a ponytail and was wearing mascara and a thin layer of lip gloss.

I extended my hand to her. "Are you ready to go?"

She took it with a smile. "Yeah."

_~~ 0 ~~_

We barely made it through the front door to the apartment Isabella shared with Angela when the sound of running feet let us know we were not alone. Angela rushed down the hallway wearing a thick bathrobe and large curlers in her dark hair.

"Oh good, you're home," she breathed, acknowledging my presence distractedly. "Hey, Edward."

"Hi," I said amused, taking off my coat.

"Please don't hate me," she begged, her attention focused on her roommate.

Isabella froze with her hand on her boot's zipper. "What did you do?"

"I…" she trailed off undecidedly. "I invited Ben over for dinner tonight."

Isabella frowned, going back to removing her footwear. "So?"

"You don't mind?" Angela asked hopefully.

"Actually…" Isabella said softly, throwing me a quick glance. "I'm going to spend the night at Edward's place. Again."

"Oh."

"Sorry."

"It's my fault," I interfered conciliatorily. "It was a last moment invitation."

Angela shrugged indifferently, not seeming to care. "Okay."

Isabella eyed her with suspicion. "How did it go last night?"

"What do you mean?" she feigned ignorance, touching her curlers to check if they were still in place.

"Did you… get back together?"

Although I had no clue what they were talking about, I noticed, somewhat entertained, that Angela looked embarrassed. Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink as she seemed bent on avoiding Isabella's eyes.

She cleared her throat, waving her left hand towards nothing in particular. "Well…"

Isabella gasped. "You slept with him?"

"A little," she admitted with a whisper.

Isabella let out an incredulous laugh. "You slept with him a little?"

"It was really quick," Angela said in her defense. "He was tired and... had been abstinent since we broke up."

"You slut!" Isabella accused jokingly.

Angela cocked an eyebrow challengingly. "At least_ I_ got some action."

In return, Isabella narrowed her eyes at her. "Yeah, you got action alright. Thirty seconds of it."

The banter between them had been entertaining until Angela remembered I was still there.

"Thirty seconds is better than nothing," she shot, quickly regaining her snarky attitude as she directed her attention on me. "Yeah, I'm looking at you. This poor girl hasn't seen cock in years."

If up until that moment I had thought nothing coming from Angela could shock me anymore, I had been completely wrong. I stared at her in horror, feeling the color drain from my face.

"Shut up, Angela!" Isabella yelled scandalized. Grabbing my hand, she started dragging me towards her bedroom. "Come on, Edward," she muttered, glaring at her. "Ignore her."

I let myself be guided as Isabella pushed me towards her bed, slamming the door behind us. I sat down and let my gaze take in my surroundings, realizing it was the first time I was in her room. Just like the rest of the apartment, it was small, but very organized and simply but tastefully decorated.

Grumbling under her breath, Isabella tossed a carry-on bag in the middle of the floor, starting to take clothes out of her closet. She roughly shoved a pair of pajamas, her slippers and a pair of underwear inside, all the while muttering obscenities addressed to her friend.

"Trust me, I'm as sexually frustrated as you are, if not even more," I spoke gently, watching her hurried movements.

She startled at the sound of my voice as if she had momentarily forgotten I was in the room. Not looking up, she zipped the bag, and went back to the closet to select fresh clothes to change into. "I'm not sexually frustrated."

Walking over to her, I wrapped my arms around her waist. "We'll take our time," I whispered in her ear comfortingly. "You shouldn't care about what Angela thinks. We have all the time in the world to get there."

Slowly, she leaned back into me, resting her head on my shoulder, and I could feel the tension gradually leave her body.

_~~ 0 ~~_

It was about six in the afternoon when we finally made it back to my place. The mall had been packed with delayed shoppers like me, and it had taken every ounce of will power I had in me not to say fuck it and abandon the whole deal. Having Isabella constantly reminding me that _I_ was the one who had left everything for the last moment didn't help either. At some point she had reproached me that it was my fault so I had better stopped complaining, and it was like being married all over again. No matter if they were twenty, forty or eighty, all women had that nagging habit of scolding the men in their life for the most insignificant things. We even had a small fight over what color the scarf I bought for Susan should be. I opted for black because it went with everything while Isabella insisted she liked emerald green better. Everything was soon forgotten after a few minutes of intense making up in the mall's parking lot.

The condo smelled divinely of cooked food, so our first stop was the kitchen.

"Good afternoon, Susan," I greeted, taking in the pots on the stove and the sweet delicacy she was currently working on.

She smiled warmly, placing raspberries as a last touch over the already sprinkled sugar. "Good afternoon, sir. Miss."

"Everything smells great," Isabella gushed in awe, inhaling the aromas greedily.

"Thank you. Mr. Cullen requested _Bûche de Noël_ for dessert."

Isabella approached the kitchen island, staring down at the result of Susan's work curiously. "It looks mouthwatering."

"It is," I assured her, resting my hand on her hip. "It's the best dessert in the world."

Placing the paper gift bag in front of Susan, I said, "This is for you. Isabella picked it out."

Susan froze holding a raspberry between her fingers and looked up at me with big, wide eyes. She clearly hadn't expected to get anything from me. She put the small fruit down and wiped her hands on a towel before grabbing the paper bag hesitantly.

"It's beautiful," she said appreciatively, touching the silky fabric. Turning to Isabella, the corners of her mouth turned upwards. "Thank you."

Isabella simply winked at her conspiratorially.

"And this…" I added, pulling out my wallet and selecting five one hundred dollar bills, "…is your Christmas bonus."

It was exactly ten per cent of her monthly salary. Isabella looked taken aback at the sum, but Susan was a respectable chef, and I couldn't give her less than she was worth. Great food came with a great price.

"You're too kind," Susan said, accepting the money.

"You make sure I don't starve, so I think it's well deserved."

"Do you need help with anything?" Isabella asked after recovering from her initial shock.

"No, no. I have everything under control," Susan declined politely. "By the way, sir, the Christmas tree is here. It's set up in the living room."

"Excellent," I said pleased. "We should get to work, Isabella."

She groaned softly in protest. "My feet are killing me."

I sighed, holding my hand outstretched to her. "Tell me about it."

We started heading out of the kitchen when Susan called, stopping me in my tracks.

"Oh, and sir?"

"Yes, Susan?" I turned to face her, my fingers linked with Isabella's.

Her next words had the effect of someone emptying a bucket of ice over my head. "Your mother was here."

"What?" I said hoarsely, not trusting my hearing.

"She was looking for you," Susan replied apprehensively. "She was downstairs in the lobby talking to Peter when I came here."

"Are you sure she was my mother?" I insisted, wishing Peter had been at his desk when I had returned home.

She shrugged. "That's what she told Peter. She was slim, average in height, had caramel-colored hair, brown eyes, I think…"

I nodded, recognizing my mother's description. "What did Peter tell her?"

"That you and the miss went out."

Thanking Susan for the head's up, I led Isabella towards the living room where the imposing Christmas tree was waiting silently.

"What was she doing here?" Isabella inquired softly, crossing her arms over her chest almost in a protective manner.

I stared at her unseeing. I couldn't believe that my mother had actually gone as far as coming here. I had expected her to be mad and pester me with phone calls the entire day until I finally caved in and answered. What I hadn't expected was for her to act so… neurotic. She had always been a controlling person, but this… this was just too much.

"She wants to know who you are," I said, focusing back on her face. She looked worried and a bit anxious.

"You told her about me?"

I nodded hesitantly. "Yes."

"When?"

"Today, over the phone."

Isabella looked down at her arms, a crease forming between her delicate eyebrows. "How did she take it?"

"Not too well," I said sadly, confirming her suspicions.

Isabella gave a curt nod, looking downright discouraged. "Well…" she exhaled, letting the rest of the sentence hang in the air for a few seconds, "…it was expected, right?"

Not sparing me another glance, she directed her steps towards the Christmas tree where she stood, pretending to examine it with interest.

"It's beautiful," she said absentmindedly.

_~~ 0 ~~_

All of a sudden my phone gave a loud shrill, making me freeze with my hand suspended above the dense evergreen branch. Isabella looked down at me questioningly from where she was perched up on a tall stool so she could reach the top of the immense tree. Returning the red ornament back into the box it had came from, I headed over to the coffee table.

"It's Emmett," I spoke in confusion, reading the display.

She shrugged, urging me with a wave of her hand to take the call.

"Yes?" I answered uncertainly.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he seethed in greeting, his voice hoarse and loaded with anger.

"I take it mom called you," I replied calmly, throwing Isabella a reassuring look. She scowled, going back to hanging another glass ornament.

"You're ditching your family for that piece of ass you keep hidden from us?"

As his insulting words resonated in my ears, my face instantly distorted from a cool façade to an enraged expression. "Watch your fucking language, Emmett," I spat, my left hand curling into a fist.

Isabella's head snapped in my direction, her eyes widening at the curse that had just escaped my lips. I didn't think I had ever sworn in front of her before.

There was a brief pause before Emmett snorted into the phone. "Well, well. Give her my respect. She already managed to turn you against us," he said sarcastically.

"What the fuck do you want?" I gritted, trying hard not to loose it completely.

"I want you to stop acting like a hormonal teenager and come to dinner tonight," he demanded, the sound of his pacing echoing through the otherwise silent background.

"I said I won't be coming, and there's nothing you can do to make me change my decision."

"You're so fucking selfish. You'd better keep that Bella of yours away from me because as soon as I lay eyes on her, I'm going to give her a piece of my mind," he threatened through clenched teeth.

I was about to reply when abruptly the line went dead, leaving me with heated, biting remarks on the tip of my tongue. The fight was over as soon as it had started.

I stood there, feeling dumbfounded.

"Motherfucker!" I exploded unexpectedly, startling Isabella and causing her to yelp. I hurled my cell phone at the couch, and it bounced back, landing on the floor with a loud noise. There was a big probability I had broken it, but I couldn't care less.

Stomping my way out of the room, I headed towards the bedroom. I lay on my back onto the bed, rubbing my palms over my face and compelling myself to calm down. I would have given anything to have Emmett in front of me so I could smash his face against the wall.

The urge to take my anger out on him reminded me of when we were kids. He had been patronizing and ordering me around since I could remember, and that never sat well with me. Although he was my older brother, it didn't stop me from riposting. I was bad-tempered, especially as a teenager, and because of that my fights with Emmett had been many. I had lost count of the times I had given him a black eye or a busted lip. In return, due to his advantage in size and strength, he would sweep the floor with me and sometimes even break a minor bone or two.

Our altercations eventually led to our parents fighting because Mom was always on Emmett's side while Dad was on mine. Emmett was my mother's golden son while I was the rebellious one. Jasper was somewhere in between.

The mattress sank under someone's weight and soon after soft hands covered mine. Revealing my eyes, I saw Isabella looking at me with concern.

"I'm sorry," I said, feeling bad for my outburst.

"What happened?" she inquired with a whisper.

"My brother happened," I gritted through clenched teeth, turning my head to the side to stare at the window. "I'm sick and tired of him telling me how to live my life. Just because he's a few years older it doesn't mean he has the right to boss me around."

"Calm down." She linked her fingers with mine and gave my hand a light squeeze in an attempt to appease me. "Edward..."

When I refused to tear my eyes away from the window, she cupped my cheek, making me look at her.

"Hey," she said, stroking the skin under my left eye with her thumb.

I let out a sigh. "I just want them to leave me the fuck alone."

"Do you want me to make you some tea?" she kindly offered. "It'll relax you."

I nodded, and she got up, exiting the bedroom. Five minutes later she was back with a steaming mug smelling of chamomile tea I didn't even know I had.

"Here you are." She placed it into my awaiting hand.

"Thanks," I said with what I hoped to be a grateful smile. I inhaled deeply, the smell only having the effect of soothing my nerves immediately.

"You're welcome," she answered, watching me sip on the hot liquid.

We sat in silence with me taking sip after sip and her watching me absently. I was absorbed by my own thoughts and so seemed to be Isabella.

The next thing I became aware of was the slight movement of her head as she turned her attention to the floor-to-ceiling window. My eyes became focused again as I followed her gaze. Outside the weather was getting worse. The snow was now much more abundant while the wind had intensified in strength in the past hours. It looked like Chicago was going to have a stormy Christmas this year. Unfortunately for me, that applied in my personal life as well. However, compared to the previous year that had been the most somber Christmas I had ever lived, this was ten times more bearable. There was no medicine involved… no vomiting… no sickness, and most importantly… no restless, nightmare-plagued nights.

Glancing back at Isabella, I spent a few minutes studying her profile. For some reason, she was more beautiful than I'd ever seen her, with her dark hair pinned on top of her head in a loose bun and her incredibly long lashes that from my angle looked like they were reaching her eyebrows. But then I reminded myself… not only was she attractive on the outside but also on the inside. She was kind and caring and more capable of love than any other woman I had ever met.

I had to admit I was in awe of the patience she was showing me. I knew that probably anyone else in her shoes wouldn't have bothered to put up with me and my problems. In all honesty, who would ever want to deal with a man that not only still mourned his dead wife, but also had impossible relatives that found some sort of sick satisfaction in interfering into his life?

Sometimes I had this crazy thought that Tanya had put Isabella in my path. Not only the circumstances in which I had met Isabella were sort of amusing, but they corresponded with Tanya's odd sense of humor. Even more, in the days before her death, when she was still conscious of her surroundings, Tanya had made promise that I was going to rebuild my life. Although it hadn't been in her nature to be either jealous or possessive of me, I knew that had been her last attempt at redeeming herself. Until the last moment, the guilt of never being able to give me children had stayed with her.

I only knew Isabella a few months, and yet she made feel hope. I wasn't exactly a religious man, but if by some miracle this was indeed Tanya's work, all I could do was thank her and pray that her soul finally found the peace she had been deprived of during her short time on Earth.

"We need to finish decorating the tree," Isabella's voice brought me out of my reverie.

The unfinished tea had gone cold in my hand. Placing the mug on the nightstand, I rose to my feet, helping Isabella up. Wordlessly, I leaned down and kissed her warm cheek.

"Thank you," I whispered.

She stared up at me, her eyes wide as saucers. She was confused, but I simply smiled knowingly.

Taking her hand, I guided her back into the living room.

"It looks great," I observed when the evergreen tree was all done in red and gold.

Isabella nodded approvingly, looking pleased with the final result. "It does."

"Dinner is ready; the table is set," Susan announced joyfully from the doorway. She was wiping her hands on a towel, her gaze trained on the fully decorated giant.

"Thank you, Susan. You can go now. I know your son is waiting for you."

"Well… Merry Christmas then."

"Merry Christmas," Isabella responded.

"I'll see you to the door," I said, walking over to her.

When I was back, Isabella was putting the empty boxes to their place.

"Let's dine," I said, motioning towards the nearby dining room. She shoved the rest of the boxes next to the others then followed after me.

The heavy, black walnut dining table was nicely decorated with one of those red Christmas flowers; Susan's courtesy of course. Surrounding it there were numerous plates including the traditional ham, mashed potatoes, gravy, rolls, stuffed mushrooms, citrus squares, Bûche de Noël and white wine. It was actually a lot of food for two people.

I held the chair for Isabella, and she sat, looking up at me with merry, sparkling eyes.

"Wine?" I asked, uncorking the bottle.

She held her glass to me. "Yes, please."

_~~ 0 ~~_

After dinner, as we cleaned up the table, I noticed Isabella was staring down at the plates with a frown on her face.

"What is it?" I inquired warily.

"I was thinking…" she said contemplatively, "… could I take some of this food to the nice man downstairs? It's probably going to waste anyway."

"You mean Peter?" I said, a bit confused, then added for clarification, "…the doorman?"

She smiled timidly, biting on her lower lip. "Yeah."

"But of course." I chuckled, wondering why I haven't thought of that myself. "Do you want me to take it to him?"

"No, I don't mind doing it."

Seeming happier, she generously filled a large plate, making sure to take what was left of the wine bottle with her also. I cocked an eyebrow at her attempt to get the poor man to drink while working, but she just rolled her eyes at me, ordering me to open the door for her.

Not liking the silence in the house, I walked over to the audio system and put on a Christmas carols CD. I finished placing the dishes in the sink and the leftovers in the fridge, and fifteen minutes later Isabella still hadn't made it back. Getting bored by myself, I opened another bottle of wine, red this time, and started washing the dishes.

As I worked on scrubbing grease, a task I was pretty used to from my years of marriage, I kept glancing at the clock. Another five minutes passed, then ten, and by the time the front door opened, it was a full half an hour later.

"I was starting to get worried," I spoke over my shoulder when I heard her footsteps getting closer.

She came to stand next to me with a girlish smile. "Sorry," she apologized, glancing down at my glass with interest. Picking it up, she took a small sip, and I noticed her cheeks were slightly flushed.

"I think you've had enough wine for one night," I said, half teasing half serious.

She shrugged nonchalantly, but put the glass back down on the countertop.

"How is Peter?"

"He's fine. He loved the food, by the way. He said the ham tastes exactly like his wife's."

"Mmhmm," I hummed, putting the last fork to dry. Tossing the rubber gloves into the sink, I grabbed my glass and Isabella's hand and led her over to the living room.

She sat on the couch with her legs folded underneath her. Holding one finger up, I silently communicated my desire for her to stay put and wait. I headed over to my study to get what I needed from my desk's drawer, making my way back to her. I took a seat on the edge of the couch, placing the blue jewelry box in her lap.

Isabella opened it tentatively, a faint gasp escaping her lips at the sight of the earrings. The square blue rocks supported by a single white gold band were actual sapphires, but she didn't need to know such an insignificant detail. I suspected she wouldn't have been very content if she did.

"Oh, Edward," she said weakly, her left hand covering her mouth.

"Do you like them?" I asked unsure.

She nodded vigorously. "They're beautiful. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Put them on. I want to see them on you."

She did as I asked, and I leaned back to take her in. The color suited her skin perfectly just as I had imagined.

"Lovely," I murmured, tracing the lobe of her ear with my forefinger.

Leaning over, she kissed my lips softly in return.

"Do you want to share Christmas stories?" she asked excitedly, moving closer to me.

It was actually a good idea. "I don't see why not. You go first."

She was quiet for a moment while she searched her mind. "I was five when I first asked my parents for a pet. One day, I saw a golden retriever puppy commercial on TV, and the idea that I _had_ to have one stuck in my head. So, I got up from the floor where I had been playing with my dolls, and strolled into the kitchen where Mom was baking cookies. She said I had to discuss it with Dad, so when he came home from work, I assaulted him with the big question. After mulling over the idea, he shook his head with regret explaining in a soft voice that a puppy was a big responsibility and that I should wait until I grew a little more. I pleaded, cried and threw a tantrum, but nothing seemed to work on my father. He was firm in his decision. That happened about two weeks before Christmas. Then, a week before December 25th, I fell ill. I had caught some kind of stomach bug and had to be hospitalized. My parents were distraught, but especially my Dad. I can still remember the fear in his eyes like it all happened yesterday."

Here Isabella trailed off with a saddened expression, and I couldn't begin to imagine what it was like to loose both parents at such a young age. I had to be sincere and admit that I was and had always been more fond of my father, but the thought of loosing my mother wasn't one I liked dwelling on. Even though she had her many flaws, she was still the woman who had brought me to this world, and I had a decent amount of love and respect for her.

"Anyway… I was released from the hospital on Christmas morning. My stomach still hurt a bit, and I was cranky as hell. Dad carried me into the house, going straight to the living room where the Christmas tree was. I was so distracted by my illness that I had actually forgotten all about Santa. Dad sat with me on his lap in his favorite armchair. All of a sudden there was this strange sound resembling the one of running paws. The next thing I knew, the object of my desire stumbled its way into the room with its floppy ears and its tongue falling out of its mouth, going straight for us. I named him Floppy due to its ears. To this day, that morning kept its status as the best Christmas of my life."

Isabella finished her story and looked at me with a smile.

"Okay." I nodded, knowing it was my turn. "I remember I was about twelve when I had my first crush. Her name was Lisa and she had just moved across the street from us. I'd never been a shy kid, but Lisa had a scary looking father, so I never dared talking to her. I kept spying her from my bedroom's window, and every time Emmett would catch me, he would tease me mercilessly. It was the second day of Christmas when I spotted her outside making a snowman. Her dad was nowhere in sight and neither was his car, so I quickly grabbed my new bike and made my way over to her."

I had to pause for a moment because a booming laugh was threatening to escape me at the memory.

"So, I went to her and said… 'Hi. I like your hair.'"

Isabella chuckled, and I held out my hand. "Wait, there's more."

Clearing my throat, I continued, "Lisa gave me an odd look, going back to her snowman. Feeling hurt in my manly pride, I went on with the compliments. I told her she had amazing green eyes and that her pink beanie was nicest one I had ever seen on a girl."

"Ooh, you were such a smooth talker," Isabella laughed with gusto, and I joined her.

"Yeah. And yet, she kept ignoring me. I should've just taken the hint and left. But no, I had too much of an ego. I don't really remember what went on in my head, but at some point I grabbed her hand and pulled her to me, making sure to plant an awkward, wet kiss on her lips. Not only had she shrieked and slapped me in return, but in that exact moment her Dad's car was pulling in the driveway. His face was red with anger, and I actually think I peed a little in fear. He got out of the car and started yelling profanities with his fists clenched and his thick moustache twitching. Abandoning my bike, I spun around and started running for the house. Just as I opened the door, I ran into Dad who was preparing to leave."

Isabella was now laughing so hard, tears were streaming down her cheeks.

"Lisa's father came thundering, bent on getting his hands on me. Dad pushed me behind him, keeping a firm grip on my shoulder because I was struggling to get away. I was terrified. But to shorten the story… I was forced to apologize to both Lisa and her father, and on top of that I had to swear I wasn't going to get near her again. From that day forward, I promised myself I wasn't going to fall in love ever again."

"This is the funniest childhood story I've heard in a while," Isabella said, wiping at her eyes.

"It wasn't so funny then. Not to me anyway. But I guess I couldn't keep my promise to myself forever."

Gradually, the laugh died on Isabella's lips.

"How was she? Your wife, I mean," she asked tentatively.

"She was a good person. She was kind and passionate and had a temper that topped even mine."

Encouraged by my willingness to share things about my ex-wife, she went on, "How did you meet?"

"We met in college. I'd never been a believer in love at first sight, but… I think it was."

"Do you miss her?"

"Of course I do," I answered sincerely. "I even miss the fights. We fought a lot, especially towards the… _end_. She had leukemia."

"What did you fight about, if you don't mind me asking?"

I sighed, running a hand though my hair. "Before we found out she had that awful disease, the reason we fought was that I wanted a child, and she became self-conscious because she couldn't give it to me. She thought I was going to leave her. It's a long story, much too depressing for this time of joy. The thing is… her inability to have children affected the perception she had about herself and in the end our relationship."

When I glanced at her, I saw that Isabella was staring at her lap pensively. "So… you want to become a father?"

I took my time before replying. I didn't want to scare her away. She was still young, and I was willing to bet children were the last thing on her mind.

"Very much so," I said gently, watching her expression cautiously.

To my utter surprise, when she looked up, a radiant smile lightened her features.

* * *

><p><strong>AN Alright, so I want to ask my wonderful readers a question. A few days ago a friend of mine and I had a heated debate over what kind of men we find appealing. **

**So, I'm asking you ladies… do you prefer a man who is financially more powerful than you, because you want to feel taken care of and protected… or… are you so independent that you prefer a man who earns if not the same then less than you? **

**Let me know!**

**Thanks for reading as always!**

**~ Andreea ~**


	15. Chapter 14: Hopeful

**A/N First of all, thank you guys for answering my question! I loved reading your opinions on that subject. One of the answers that put a smile on my face is: **_**"Why be too picky? I'm just happy if dude has a job that he's held for more than a month." **_**Lol… True… so true…**

**I also want to thank **_**Twilightery **_**who has left me the most amazing review ever. I just wanted to let her know that it was very much appreciated :)**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 14<strong>

**Isabella Pov**

* * *

><p><em>~ January 21<em>_st__, 2012 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

"Come on, Isabella," Edward urged, his breathing slightly labored. "One more."

He had just stepped off the treadmill and was now standing next to one of the leg extension machines where I was currently doing exercises.

"I can't," I panted, letting my head fall back. "It feels like my muscles are on fire."

Lifting my left arm, I wiped some of the sweat from my forehead. I looked up and saw that Edward was towering over me with his arms crossed over his chest. Aside from a few beads of sweat rolling down his temples, he seemed in pretty much the same shape as when we had arrived at the gym. I, on the other hand, was absolutely exhausted.

"You did well," he said, his green eyes focused on my stomach. I was wearing my usual gym attire, consisting of a dark purple workout top that reached just below my breasts and a pair of black stretch pants that were pretty low cut. Every inch of skin in between the two pieces of material was as visible as the day I was born. Even though I had been kind of embarrassed in the beginning; after seeing other women wearing similar clothes, I began feeling more comfortable.

"Your abdomen is already starting to show subtle signs of a six pack," he said approvingly, running his index finger over the faint reddish creases resulting from the past two hours' activities. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through my body, and I startled in response. Edward arched an eyebrow questioningly, and I felt my face getting even hotter than it already was.

"That's because you're a tyrant, making me come with you to the gym four times a week," I replied playfully, averting my gaze from his. "What happened to two or three times?"

He chuckled lowly. "I don't know why you're complaining. You love it. Admit it."

"I love it because you're the one giving me indications and ordering me around, not that guy over there." I nodded my head in the bald guy's direction. He was frowning deeply and by the rapid movements of his lips, he seemed to be scolding his trainee.

"John is a great personal trainer," Edward said in his defense. "I worked with him for five years."

I waved him off weakly, not in the mood to get into a debate over how good of a trainer John was. Been there done that.

"Are we done for the day?" I asked, eager to leave.

"Yes. We're done," he answered, wiping his forehead with the hem of his t-shirt. "Let's go change."

Once in the women's locker room, I headed over to the shower stalls. I took off my damp clothes and stepped under the spray of water, sighing contently as the warmth soothed my sore muscles.

It had been almost a month since this same ritual repeated itself four or even five times a week. For some reason, Edward was bent on getting me into better shape. Since it was now much too cold outside, we had decided to replace running in the park with running on the treadmill. As promised, Edward had gotten me a membership to the same gym he had been frequenting for over seven years.

During week days we would come to the gym after we both got off work, while on the weekends we came in the morning. As today was Saturday, he had woken me up at eight a.m. After a bit of protesting on my part, I had managed to get ready by eight thirty when he came to pick me up. Although I certainly wasn't a morning person, and I hated when he didn't even let me sleep in on the weekends, I did enjoy working out with him. Not only was watching him use the different exercise machines a real treat -especially when he took off his t-shirt- but I was starting to feel so much better in my own body. Not to mention the changes that were just starting to occur. My butt was getting firmer, my legs were stronger, my stomach was flatter, and my own personal favorite; my breasts were actually starting to feel more toned.

Squirting pomegranate-scented shower gel into my hand, I rubbed it between my palms before spreading it all over my arms and torso. I took my time, but I also tried to keep in mind that Edward was quicker than me when it came to showering and he didn't like to wait. When I was done, I dried myself off and put on the clean pair of jeans and sweater I had arrived in. I zipped up my flat, mid-calf boots, grabbed my coat and sports bag, and made my way to the reception area.

As expected, Edward was already there, sitting in an armchair and bouncing his right leg impatiently. He got up as soon as his eyes landed on me, and I followed after him as he headed towards the elevator. We stepped inside, and Edward took the bag from me, transferring it to his other hand next to his own.

"Where to?" he inquired, draping his arm over my shoulders nonchalantly.

"I'm hungry," I said, pushing the button for parking level.

"Borriello's?" he suggested, referring to the Italian restaurant we had came upon one day while taking a short walk. It was small and intimate, but their food was absolutely amazing.

I smiled up at him, delighted. "Yes. Pasta sounds heavenly right now."

He smiled back, leaning down to kiss me softly. "Pasta it is, then."

The doors to the elevator opened a few seconds later, and we walked over to his BMW that was parked fifty feet away. We climbed inside, and I put on my seat belt as Edward tossed the bags into the backseat then pulled out of the building.

I was fiddling with the radio, trying to find a decent song to listen to, when his cell phone started ringing. He brought it out of his pocket and read the display quickly, frowning as he did so.

"Yes?" he answered, glancing in his side mirror and signaling a left turn. "No, I already ordered it… Yes, pink camelias and white roses… Mmhmm... Mmhmm… No problem… Let me know if there's anything you need help with... Bye."

"Irina?" I questioned as he placed his phone in my lap absentmindedly. His hand rested on my knee where he began rubbing circles with his thumb.

"Yes," he replied simply, staring out the windshield and seeming a bit pensive.

I had noticed that in the past few days there had been moments when he looked preoccupied, and I suspected it had to do with the fact that the 25th of January was getting closer and closer. Irina was calling more often to ask him questions regarding the memorial, and by the end of each call he sort of zoned out. Surprisingly, he didn't look sad or melancholic but rather meditative.

But what really made me wonder what was going on in his head was that sometimes I caught him staring at me in such a way that made me believe he was planning something. I hadn't even the vaguest idea what it was, and yet, I had enough reasons to think it had to do with the fast approaching day of the memorial. I only hoped that some crazy thought like dragging me along wasn't what made him so contemplative.

Edward's phone rang for the second time that morning, jolting me out of my reverie. I handed it over to him just as the car came to a stop in front of a red light.

"Yeah, Dad?" he greeted apprehensively, pausing to listen to what his father was saying. "I left it on your desk yesterday… Yes, the property was evaluated at over one million dollars… I have no idea… Give Anderson a call; he has to know."

He was silent again. Suddenly, his expression went from tranquility to annoyance in a matter of seconds.

"Dad… I'm sorry, but I won't be coming to dinner. Not while Emmett is there. Look… I'm sorry. I know that you're in the middle of this and that…" he stopped abruptly as if he had been cut off. Letting out a sigh, he continued, "They need to stop interfering into my life. When I consider the time to be opportune, I'm going to introduce her to the rest of the family."

As he listened to Mr. Cullen's long reply, Edward's head turned in my direction. Ever so slowly, a tentative smile stretched the corners of his lips as he held my gaze.

"I'm sure you'll like her, Dad," he finally said, his voice taking a softer tonality. "Alright. Talk to you later."

I had to admit, I was feeling kind of guilty for the discord I was provoking between brothers. No matter how much of a jerk Emmett seemed to be, he was still Edward's blood, and I had no desire to draw them apart.

Ever since Christmas when the Cullen family had found out about my existence, there had been a lot of tension surrounding Edward's relationship with me. On Christmas day, Edward had joined them for lunch as promised, and a huge scandal had broken out. Esme had demanded to know who I was, and when Edward had told her I was a mere student struggling to make something out of her life, she had a fit. As expected, Emmett had been partial to his mother, refusing to believe Edward had gotten involved with a woman who was twelve years his junior. The rest of them, including Mr. Cullen, preferred to stay out of it, so the entire fight had been between Edward, his mother and his older brother.

Wanting to leave the apartment to Angela's disposal a few more hours, I was still at Edward's place when he had come back. I could still vividly remember the exact moment he had burst through the front door like a tornado, muttering curses under his breath. He had been in such a rage that his appearance had scared me. His eyes, usually such a bright color, were almost black; his mouth was twisted downwards; his forehead was wrinkled into the ugliest of frowns; his nostrils were flared and his hands were balled into tight fists at his sides.

It wasn't that I hadn't seen angry men before; but when Edward got like that, his fury was so intense that it transformed him completely. With him being so choleric, I was reluctant to think about what would happen if we ever got into a fight. As calm and collected I was on a daily basis, I did have my moments when I became so infuriated nothing and no one could stop me from taking it out on whomever had the misfortune to rile me up.

After managing to calm him down, he had told me everything that had transpired at his parents' house. Since that afternoon, he began avoiding taking his mother's calls. Surprisingly, she hadn't showed up at his door unannounced again, but she never stopped pestering him with phone calls and text messages. Emmett had started to give him the cold shoulder, so the atmosphere at work was not only uncomfortable but more stressful than ever. Everything about his life was now so strained, I actually felt bad for him.

Sighing, I glanced at Edward's profile. He was watching the traffic ahead attentively. His brow was slightly furrowed while the bags under his eyes were more accentuated than I'd ever seen them.

Reaching over to him, I started toying with the short hair at the nape of his neck. In return, he put his hand back on my knee, giving it a light squeeze.

I smiled and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

_~~ 0 ~~_

"I look fat in these jeans," Angela stated. She had her arms akimbo and was looking down at herself quite displeased.

"Yeah, and?" I replied, trying to keep a straight face.

She gasped, outraged. "You tactless cow!"

"I was kidding!" I laughed, putting my hands up defensively. "You look fine."

She glared at me, turning her attention to her boyfriend. "Ben?"

"Huh?" he said, making an effort to tear his gaze away from the soccer game he was watching.

"Do these jeans make me look fat?"

He stared at her blankly for a second before answering. "No. Of course they don't. They make your ass nice and round."

"So they make my ass look big, is that what you're saying?" she snapped, taking a step towards him menacingly.

"God, no!" he yelled, his eyes widening. "You look…" he trailed off, and I prayed that he had the right answer, "…as beautiful as ever."

"Awww." I couldn't help myself.

A smug smirk made its way to Angela's face. "See?" she said, looking at me triumphantly. "He's well trained."

"Hey," Ben protested, but she waved him off dismissively.

"I'm joking, baby," she said, blowing him a kiss. "Go back to your game."

He shook his head, leaning back into the couch. After so many years of having to put up with her, the poor guy was used to her craziness.

"What are your plans for tonight?" Angela asked, leaning down over the coffee table to shove her phone and keys into her bag.

I shrugged, bringing the cup of tea to my lips and taking a sip. "I don't have any. Edward is probably going to come over."

"You guys can come with us if you want," she suggested.

"I don't think Edward's in the mood for clubbing. Not at this time of the year."

"Okay." She nodded understandingly. I had told her all about Tanya, so I didn't need to elaborate my answer. "Well… have fun playing scrabble or doing whatever it is that you two usually do when you're alone."

"Thanks," I said, rolling my eyes at her.

Angela and Ben were gone within fifteen minutes, and I was left alone. Later that night, I was just fixing myself a second cup of tea when the doorbell rang.

"Come on in!" I yelled, loud enough to be heard from the hallway. "It's open!"

I heard the door open, followed by the sound of discarded footwear. Shortly after, Edward appeared in the kitchen's doorway holding a plastic bag.

"Evening," he greeted with a smile.

"Good evening. What's that?" I pointed towards the bag with my teaspoon.

"It's chocolate cake," he said, placing it on the countertop and leaning in for a kiss. "Susan made it especially for you."

"That was sweet of her."

"She likes you."

"I like her too," I confessed, taking out the square box and opening it. "Her food is amazing. Last week while you were in the shower, she even gave me her Fettuccini Alfredo recipe, which is about a hundred times better than mine."

"Well…" he whispered in my ear, "I think your lasagna is the best I ever had."

I blushed at the compliment. "You always say that."

"It's the truth. I don't know where you learned to cook like you do, but when it comes to food, you have true skills, Isabella."

A sigh escaped me as a deep, old-time longing took over me. I cut a piece of cake and placed it on a plate before turning to Edward. "It was my mom's recipe," I uttered, almost shyly. "Grandma passed it to her when she married Dad."

Edward tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his warm fingers running down my jaw and settling at the base of my neck. "I never asked you…" he murmured softly, "…are your grandparents still alive?"

"Only grandpa Swan. He lives in Olympia, not that far away from Forks."

Thinking about grandpa Swan brought back bitter-sweet memories, and with them a touch of melancholia grazed my soul. His wife, grandma Swan, had been the best grandmother anyone could have asked for, and I missed her dearly.

"When was the last time you saw him?" Edward questioned, and I inched closer to him bringing my arms around his waist and resting my head on his chest. He felt good, and I breathed in his cologne, letting my eyelids fall closed for a split second.

"Years ago at my parents' funeral. We're not that close. He's always had more of a cold attitude towards me."

Edward nodded, but didn't say anything else. He rubbed my back comfortingly, and I placed a few kisses on his Adam's apple, causing him to hum in appreciation.

Eventually, I pulled away and held the small plate in front of him. "Cake?"

He took it from me with a smile, repaying me with a gentle peck on the lips. "Yes, please."

_~~ 0 ~~_

"This man is a saint," I voiced my thoughts, placing the book on my chest and glancing at Edward.

He peered at me over his thick-rimmed glasses that gave him such a business-like allure. "Either that, or he truly was an idiot."

We were lying on the couch, on opposite sides, with my bent legs resting between his. I was re-reading Dostoyevsky's _The Idiot _while he was skimming through one of my Indian philosophy books with a moderate amount of interest.

"Just because he is kind and generous, doesn't mean he's an idiot," I justified, sitting up.

Edward tossed his book on the coffee table. Keeping his glasses on, he took hold of my right foot and brought it to his lap, starting to massage it.

"Well, his goodness did seem to precipitate disaster," he said with a smirk, cleverly sensing a debate.

I scowled, liking what he was doing to my foot, but still too immersed in my recent lecture to completely enjoy it. "Kind-hearted people always end up badly."

"That's because goodness isn't enough of a quality to succeed in life. It never was and it will never be. Sometimes you have to be bad… to play dirty… to be sneaky."

I stared at him curiously. "Did you ever have to 'play dirty' in order to reach your goals?" I asked, making air quotes with my fingers.

"Many times," he answered sincerely, a contemplative look overtaking his expression. "Being a lawyer isn't exactly the most ethical of professions. Even though I have to confess I was a bit privileged, life isn't just and it doesn't offer equal chances to all of us. Sometimes it is possible that you'll have to work harder than others to see your desires come to fruition. Other times you'll have to go as far as step over the proverbial dead bodies. That's just how the world we live in works." He paused, shifting his eyes so that they were boring into mine intently. "But take this piece of advice from me if you will. Never back down when you really want something, and most importantly; never show weakness in front of your enemies. Because if you do… " he paused again briefly to emphasize the importance of his words, "…they will tear you apart."

"Okay…"

"What?"

I shrugged, placing my other foot into his lap. He took the hint, redirecting his skilled hands to it. "You really do have that typical attorney mentality."

"I wouldn't be successful in what I do if I didn't. I told you before… when it comes to work, we lawyers are like sharks; cold blood and all."

"But you're so different in your personal life," I mused, watching his thumbs move against the back of my toes. "You're so warm and attentive and selfless."

"I manage to detach myself pretty well. Work is just that; work. While when it comes to love, I am a man with needs, desires, feelings, weaknesses, fears…" he said, looking up at me and smiling coyly.

The next question fell from my lips almost involuntarily. "What is your biggest fear relationship wise?"

He looked thoughtful before giving me an answer. "Failing to make the woman I love happy."

I nodded, secretively feeling my affection for him growing even more. If I had any doubt that Edward was a wonderful man before, his response had certainly eliminated it. He definitely had his many flaws, but he also had amazing qualities that were pretty hard to find in the modern, contemporary man. He was just so… perfect in his own imperfection.

"Weakness?" I went on, intuiting the opportunity to discover that part of him that he didn't show very often.

He sighed, his hands abandoning my toes and moving up to my ankles. "I get too involved. I put too much of myself out there."

"And that's bad why?" I said in a strained voice, biting on my lip and suppressing an embarrassing moan. His ministrations alleviated my sore muscles, and I let myself slide a little closer to him and his magic hands.

Edward noticed my movement, quickly deciphering its purpose. He inched up towards my calves, applying more pressure, and this time I let out a loud groan.

"It _is_ bad if she doesn't get as involved as I do. It never happened, but it could…"

"Don't stop," I breathed, closing my eyes and relaxing against the couch's stiff arm.

He chuckled, amused by my reaction. He continued what he was doing, from time to time leaning down to place a scruffy kiss against my skin.

Many minutes later, I found the strength to open my eyes again. I was starting to get sleepy, and I ran my palms over my face, trying to chase the somnolence away. "How about needs and desires?"

At this Edward looked up at me with an intensity that took my breath away. "You already know my biggest desire," he said lowly, his gaze falling on my stomach suggestively.

Yeah, he wanted a child and he'd been was pretty damn clear about that. If this thing between us was going in the direction I hoped it was going, I knew that sooner or later we were going to have a serious conversation. I wanted children as well, but not until I was done with school. My career was my first priority at the moment. However, I found it endearing that Edward was so determined to be a father. It only showed just how big his heart really was.

Pulling my legs out of his hands, I turned my body so that I was lying on top of him. He grinned up at me lazily, rubbing the small of my back as my arms went around his neck. I kissed him deeply; a testament to my silent agreement to make his dream come true if we ever got that far in our relationship.

"As for needs," he murmured, caressing my ass, "I think they're pretty much the same for every man. We need sex, affection, understanding, and from time to time some space. Right now you're squishing my balls, so a little space would be nice."

It took a moment for his comment to register with me. Glancing between us, I saw that my thigh was resting right on top of his manly parts. I didn't look very comfortable for him.

"Sorry," I apologized, rushing to scramble off of him.

He frowned, immobilizing me. Lifting my hips up, he changed his position a little to the right then pulled me back to his chest. "There. Now I think it's time for you to answer the same questions."

"Okay," I said, placing my chin on top of my folded arms as I gazed up at him. His palms went back to my ass, distracting me for a split second. "Uh… I'm afraid of being cheated on."

"Did it ever happen to you?"

"Yeah," I admitted with a shrug. "In high school. He was my first boyfriend, my first kiss, my first time, my first everything. It just hurt a lot, you know?"

He nodded, patiently waiting for the rest.

"My biggest weakness… I don't really know if I have one. I can be pretty sensitive and I cry easily."

"Okay. That counts. You're vulnerable."

"Yeah. As for desires; I wish to get married one day. I dream of a nice house with a large garden where I can grow flowers, a golden retriever and a couple of kids to run around. Nothing out of the ordinary."

"A garden sounds nice," he said, and I could detect a hint of longing in his voice.

"Mmhmm," I murmured my approval.

"Needs?" he asked.

My reply was so spontaneous, it sounded like I had practiced it all my life. "I need someone to take care of me, to put up with my nagging and criticizing and not to pester me when I don't feel like having sex."

Edward's eyebrows rose up in surprise. "Speaking from experience again?"

"Unfortunately, yes," I said, Jacob's memory tainting the conversation. "Women are not machines. For varied reasons, there are times when we just don't feel like doing it."

"I'll try to keep that in mind," he said playfully, kissing my frown away.

We were quiet for some time, simply enjoying being in each other's arms. He explored my curves with gentle strokes while I toyed with the little reddish hairs peeking from underneath the plain, low-cut t-shirt he had on. I could feel the outline of his erection pressing against my lower abdomen, but since he was ignoring it, I tried to do the same.

"Why do men cheat?" I suddenly blurted out in an attempt to distract myself from his hard on, staring at him expectantly.

"I have no idea," he retorted huskily, his eyelids heavy. "Why do women cheat?"

I swallowed thickly, my tongue darting out to leave a wet trail across my bottom lip. Seeing him so aroused had the same uncomfortable effect on me. It took all of my willpower not to start grinding against him desperately.

"Men cheat more often than women do," I rationalized.

His gaze flickered from my mouth to my eyes and back to my mouth hungrily. "It's possible."

"It's a fact."

"Mmhmm," he hummed absently, still very much focused on my lips. "Why did your boyfriend cheat on you? What was the reason behind his escapade?"

"He was a stupid asshole?" I said, moving my hips just a few inches higher.

His teeth clenched visibly as he let out a low grunt. "There's your answer."

I moved back down, feeling the hardness hidden by the rough denim of his jeans rub me in just the right place. "He said I was boring in bed."

This time he moaned, his hands gripping my hips so hard it was almost painful. "He was just an immature kid," he said, his eyes getting wild with lust.

"His name was Mike." I repeated the same action, making sure to apply more pressure against his penis. "He was my first, and I was just so inexperienced. I only wanted missionary, and he hated it."

I rubbed against him a few more times, and all of a sudden he lifted my body off of his. "God, Isabella," he gritted, his hands trembling as they supported my weight.

He looked like he was in pain, and I immediately started feeling horrible for my stupid impulse that had only intensified his agony. I really had no idea what the hell had gotten into me.

"I'm sorry," I said remorseful, kneeling between his thighs.

He shook his head, but seemed unable to speak as he dug the heels of his still trembling hands into his eye sockets. I was so mortified, I started getting up, preparing to go lock myself into the bathroom and never come out.

Abruptly, Edward grabbed my wrist, bringing it to his mouth. He kissed it a couple of times, gently pulling me towards him. "I'm okay," he said, a devilish smirk making its way to his face. "Although, I have to confess I'm not too fond of missionary myself."

I let out a nervous laugh, my cheeks coloring brightly. "No?"

"No. It's okay for making love, although I like being creative and spontaneous when it comes to positions," he murmured, causing my entire face to flame up. I wasn't embarrassed only because of his bluntness, but also because of my stupid behavior. "Why are you blushing? I'm just being honest. Am I too crass for your liking?"

"No, but I can't help it."

He chuckled. "You'll have to get used to it. I can be pretty shameless in that department."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Monday morning, just as I was preparing to leave for class, my cell phone started ringing from somewhere at the bottom of my messenger bag. I paused with my hand on the scarf I was wrapping around my neck and looked at my reflection in the bathroom's mirror with an irritated frown. Abandoning the scarf on the vanity, I headed over to the hallway where I had left the bag. I opened it and dug inside, letting out a few obscenities when it took me longer than a few seconds to find the damn gadget.

"Yeah?" I said, not even bothering to read the display.

"Are you still home?" Angela's hurried voice greeted me.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Can I ask for a favor?"

I sighed, pressing two fingers against the crease that had formed between my eyebrows. "What is it that you want?"

"I was in such a rush today and I forgot to pack lunch. I really don't want to eat the food they have here," she rushed to explain. "Can you please, please detour on your way to school and bring me something?"

I groaned in response. "You're killing me."

"I know," she said, sounding apologetic. "Pretty please?"

"Fine," I relented, knowing how much she hated eating hospital food. "What do you want me to bring you?"

"Just some pasta leftovers or whatever it is that we have in the fridge."

"Okay. I'll be there in about half an hour."

"Thanks. Call me when you get here."

"I will." With that I hung up, turning around and going straight to the fridge.

I packed Angela's lunch hurriedly, applied some lipstick, managed to put on my scarf, and ten minutes later I was stepping outside into the freezing January air. My four inch heels hit against the asphalt noisily as I made my way towards the subway station with large, deliberate steps. Once on the train, I sat down next to an elderly man reading a newspaper, and pulled out one of my school books, busying myself with it until I reached my destination.

The Northwestern Memorial Hospital was just as tall as I remembered. Following the red sign saying "Emergency Department", I walked towards the entrance, a wave of warmth enveloping me as soon as I made it inside. I texted Angela that I was there, and she replied with a flat 'k'. Throwing a fugitive glance to my right where people were waiting to be attended to, I began unbuttoning my coat as I headed over to the reception area. A cute blonde I recognized from my previous visits was behind the reception desk, jotting something down in an agenda.

"Hey," I said, resting my elbow on top of the desk.

She looked up blankly. After a few seconds during which I could see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to place me, she smiled brightly. "Bella, right?"

A man, who up until that moment had been hunched over a chart, looking deep in thought, glanced in my direction at the mention of my name. He had light brown, short hair, dark eyes, harmonious facial features and pale skin. As he was wearing a white coat over green scrubs, I logically deduced he was a doctor.

"Yeah," I said to the girl; Heidi if I wasn't mistaken. "I'm here to see Angela. She should be here any minute."

"What do you have there?" she inquired as I placed the plastic bag I was holding in front of her.

"Lunch," I said, tapping my nails on the polished wood and checking the time. I had another twenty-five minutes until class began and I didn't want to be late.

"How's your wrist?" Heidi asked amusedly, referring to an accident that had happened about a year prior. I had slipped on some stairs while rushing to catch a cab, and instead of getting to work, I had ended up in the ER.

"Better." I chuckled, flexing my wrist to prove my point. "I avoid stairs as much as I can ever since."

"Stairs can be a bitch," the man observed, now facing me. He gave me the once over, his eyes lingering on my boots. "Especially when you're in high heels."

"I wasn't wearing heels," I said, raising an eyebrow at him challengingly.

"Well…" he trailed off, smiling. I noticed that he was really cute when he did, and I couldn't help but smile back.

Angela showed up then wearing her usual scrubs. "Sorry to keep you waiting," she panted, looking like she had been running to get there faster. "What did you bring me?"

I pushed the bag towards her. "Pasta and a piece of cake."

"I love cake," the guy said, his gaze alternating between the bag and me.

Angela looked at him and rolled her eyes. "Bella, this is _Dr. Hall_. He's an obnoxious prick."

"Thanks for the extremely fitted introduction, Angela." He laughed with gusto, extending a hand to me. "It's a pleasure to meet you, _Bella_."

"You too," I said, shaking his hand which was really warm in comparison with my cold one.

His smile got wider as he stared at me intensely. I blushed and attempted to retract my hand, but he didn't let go, bringing it to his mouth and kissing the back of it.

"I wasn't joking when I said I love cake. You can't just tempt me and not let me at least have a taste," he said playfully, but I had this strange feeling that he wasn't talking about dessert.

"Um…" I stammered, pulling away and looking at Angela for help.

"Just get the damn cake out," she said in a clipped tone, but not seeming to find anything unusual in her coworker's behavior. "I told you he's an obnoxious prick. The man has no shame whatsoever. He'll pester me until I give him freaking cake."

"Okay…" I took the lid off the plastic recipient and gave it to him along with a fork. "Dig in."

He grinned, cutting a piece and bringing it to his lips. "Wow," he moaned appreciatively as he swallowed. "Just… wow. Did you make this?"

I chuckled at his enthusiasm. "No."

He cut another piece, inhaling it greedily. "Man, this is really good."

Angela sighed and Heidi laughed, snatching the fork from him and tasting a bit to see what all the fuss was about.

"Just have the whole piece," Angela said.

Dr. Hall retrieved the fork from Heidi, hovering with it above the delicious sweetness and preparing to attack again. "You mean it?"

Angela gave her consent, and he began shoveling the dessert, from time to time making delighted noises.

"Wow." I stared in awe. "I've never seen anyone enjoy cake so much."

"What can I say…" he replied, his mouth full. "…we all have our weaknesses."

Heidi went back to work, attending to patients, while Dr. Hall finished eating and I exchanged a few more words with Angela.

"Thanks," he said when he was done, returning the empty recipient. "It was delicious."

"You're welcome."

"So, Bella, how come I never heard anything about you?" He licked his lips, examining me attentively. "I must say, brunettes are another special fondness of mine. You know that, Angela."

"She has a boyfriend," Angela stated, again looking unfazed by the fact that he was so blatantly hitting on me.

"So?" He grinned at me. "You have lovely features."

"Okay, you're cute and all, but I have to go," I said, taking a step back. "I have to get to school."

"Come by again," he invited with a shameless leer. "Maybe you should let me give that wrist a look. You know… as a thank you for feeding my addiction."

I laughed. The man was incorrigible.

"Bye!" I called over my shoulder as I departed.

"Don't forget to bring cake!" he yelled after me.

_Jeez, that was weird_, I thought, still pretty entertained, as I made my way back to the subway station. In other circumstances, I think I would have been attracted to the guy, and who knows, maybe I would've even flirted back. But, ever since Edward had entered my life, he was the only man I had eyes for.

_Too bad for Dr. Hall, I guess._

_~~ 0 ~~_

Wednesday was a gloomy day, both in regards to the weather and to my mood.

Edward was extremely busy, alternating between his office and running errands, so we didn't get to talk on the phone for more than a couple of minutes. He was stressed and agitated, his emotional state transferring over to me whether he realized it or not. I was edgy and kept checking the time every half an hour or so, wishing that I could just close my eyes and wake up the next morning. Tanya's memorial was tonight, and I was afraid that something bad might happen. It was a stupid fear, but I just couldn't get out of my head the horrendous scenario where Esme or even Emmett made a scene in front of everyone, accusing Edward of dating a gold-digger.

Although Edward hadn't said anything to me, I was willing to bet that was the way they all perceived me. To them, I was some poor student, slash whore, taking advantage of an older man's vulnerability so I could get my hands on his money. I didn't think that either Alice or Jasper had defended me in front of the family, because that meant they had to admit they had met me. So, Edward and I were pretty much on our own in this. But what bothered me the most was the fact that every time he met with his family, Edward had to face them alone. It pained me that he had to bear their judging and harsh words without anyone to back him up, and I wished that I could be there for him. According to him, it wasn't the right time for that yet. _"Besides…"_ he'd said bravely, _"… I can stand up to them on my own. At least for now."_

I went to school and then to work, but no matter how hard I tried to distract myself, my mind kept wandering to Edward and the events that were going to take place in a few hours. My fingers were itching to call him or send him a text message, and once or twice I almost did it, deciding to cancel at the last second. By the time I got home, I was going insane with worry. Angela was working the night shift, so I didn't have anyone to talk to. I ate some dinner, showered, painted my nails and even attempted to watch a movie. The clock indicated a few minutes to eleven, and still no news from Edward.

It was eleven-fifteen when the doorbell finally rang. Jumping out of the bed in my ratty PJs, I rushed over to the door. Edward was standing on the other side, dressed in a black suit, paired with a black button-down and shiny, patent dress shoes. His usually neat hair was standing up as if he had been running his hands through it, and he had his glasses on, probably to conceal his tired eyes.

"Hey," I breathed, throwing myself into his arms and inhaling his cologne deeply. "How was it?"

He kissed my temple, and I stepped to the side so he could come in. Removing his coat, suit jacket and shoes, he answered with a sigh, "Everything went well, aside from my mother trying to get information out of me as soon as she had me alone, and my brother giving me the cold shoulder. Jess says hi."

I smiled, following him as he headed straight for my room and plopped down onto his back, his left leg dangling over the edge of the bed.

"I miss her," I said, sitting next to him and removing his glasses. Just as I had suspected, he looked absolutely fatigued, the accentuated bags under his eyes still there.

"She misses you, too," he said tiredly.

"How were Tanya's parents doing?"

"They were okay. As resigned as any parent can be about one of their children's death."

I nodded, and Edward moved towards the middle of the bed, patting the mattress for me to lie with him. I did, and he turned onto his side so that we were facing each other.

"Let's make a trip," he blurted out without any warning.

I gaped at him, blinking rapidly. "What did you just say?"

"Let's make a trip," he repeated ardently, his voice pleading as he placed his hand on my hipbone. "Just the two of us."

"When?" I asked dumbfounded.

"How about one month from now? I need a break."

I blinked again, realizing that he was dead serious. "Where would we be going?"

"Wherever you prefer. France, Austria, Egypt, China…"

"Wait, wait," I cut him off. "You mean outside of US?"

"Yes," he stated, staring at me expectantly.

"You really mean it?"

His brow furrowed. "Of course I mean it. Pick a country and we'll go."

I took a deep breath, held it, then exhaled loudly. "Edward…"

"Please?" he begged, looking forlorn, and my heart ached for him. "I desperately need a vacation."

"I can't afford…" I started saying, and it was his turn to cut me off.

"Isabella," he snapped, not bothering to hide his annoyance. "Is this going to come down to money again?"

"I can't let you pay for this, Edward," I argued weakly.

"Yes, you can. Please. Do it for me."

Biting on my lip, I rolled onto my back, staring at the white ceiling. I needed to consider his invitation for a moment. Yeah, he was practically offering to give me the trip of my dreams. And yeah, I cared about him a lot, he was great company, and I could bet we were going to have fun.

But still…

For some reason it just felt off to let him spend such an important sum on me.

When I glanced back at him, he was watching me intently. His expression oozed so much hope, that I actually felt like a horrible person for thinking about refusing him. For everything he'd been through, he deserved a vacation.

"Okay," I murmured.

His face lit up like he was a kid in a candy shop for the first time. Cupping my cheek, he planted a wet kiss on my mouth. "So, where to?" he breathed excitedly.

I didn't even need to think about it, because I already knew the destination. "Czech Republic. Prague."

* * *

><p><strong>AN No lemon yet, but we're going to Prague. Yaaay!**

**Don't forget to check for teasers on FB or Twilighted!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~ Andreea ~**


	16. Chapter 15: Blissful

**A/N Thanks to Nikki for beta'ing and to Jen for pre-reading. I love them both. And I love you guys :)**

**As for this chapter, I only have one thing to say… I don't really do overly emotional (or overly long) lemons…**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15<strong>

**Edward Pov**

* * *

><p><em>March 10<em>_th__, 2012_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

2012…

…was proving to be an interesting year so far. If the rest of the year was going to be as good as it had started out, I could already consider myself a lucky man. Spending the night between the 31st of December and January 1st in Isabella's presence had been a lovely experience. We had opted to celebrate at my condo, just the two of us. With a bottle of the finest Moet and a delicious dinner prepared by Isabella herself, we had decided to improvise, making some sort of picnic on the living room's wooden floor. We ate, drank, joked and watched horrible TV shows, making sure to mark the passing from 2011 to 2012 with a proper kiss. Everything had been such a relaxing experience; something I had never tried before. Up until she appeared in my life, my New Year's consisted of pretentious parties held by either one of my relatives or by someone from my wide social circle.

Of course, my decision not to honor Emmett's party with my presence had been yet another reason for all the family to throw numerous reproaches at me. But to be honest, I was starting to not even care anymore. The only regret I had was that my father was being dragged in the middle of these fights between the ever conflicted trio: Mother, Emmett and I. From the moment he had found out about Isabella, he had decided not to take any sides, although he expressed his desire to meet her. I had told him the same thing I told everyone: not yet. Why? Because I wanted to give them a little more time to get used to the idea of me dating before I threw Isabella into the shark tank. Whether she realized it or not, she wasn't quite ready to put up with the tornado that was my mother when she had strong, hostile feelings towards someone.

Aside from the usual familiar problems I had to deal with, my life seemed to be getting back on track.

As expected, Tanya's memorial had been uneventful. Her parents had been happy to see me, while Irina had not only kept her affectionate attitude towards me, but she had even asked about Isabella. That only reinforced my belief that she was a kind woman with a lovely personality; so similar to the one of her big sister. Although she had been a bit reticent and cold towards Isabella at their first encounter, Irina was unable to hold a grudge. My mother, on the other hand, had been bent on getting me to talk about the "student who was warming my bed", as she had eloquently put it. Needless to say, I didn't even bother answering her persistent questions.

With the memorial behind me, I now found myself in the position of rightfully being called Isabella's "boyfriend". I, for one, hated the term, finding it oddly pubescent. But Isabella seemed happy with our relationship's new status. I was officially off the market again, so to say, and so was she. The declaration had been made on the 20th of February without too much pomposity, both of us knowing it was time we took the next step. From that day forward there had been a slight change in our relationship's dynamics. Our touches and kisses became less platonic and much more urgent. We began seeing each other in various stages of undress, and eventually, I confessed that sexually I was ready for more.

Unfortunately for me, ever since she had accepted to make the trip to Europe with me, she started insisting that we should make it special. After the sex-themed conversation we'd had the night of my confessional, she had put sex on the long list of to-dos while in Prague. And so began my three week torture. Aside from a bit of groping and dry humping, we hadn't done anything that required us to take off our underwear. Sometimes, when I got really frustrated, I would catch her smiling mischievously and I knew she was enjoying this merciless process of teasing me. She was the one in control now, and she wasn't shy about letting me know it.

The pilot announced we were about to land, and I glanced over at Isabella. She was sleeping peacefully, her head resting on my shoulder, and I couldn't help the smile that made its way to my face. She was so excited to get to see the city where her parents had spent their honeymoon more that twenty years ago. According to her words, it had been the first and only time they could afford to get out of the country. The house in Forks was still adorned with pictures of them taken all over Prague, and it was one of Isabella's dreams to see those places with her own eyes. As for me, I was more than willing to please her. I hadn't been to the Czech Republic before either, so it was a new experience for both of us.

"Isabella," I murmured, rubbing the back of her left hand with my thumb. "Wake up."

Her eyes opened as she looked up at me groggily. "Are we there yet?"

"Yes," I said. "You need to put on your seatbelt."

"Mmmm," she hummed, stretching her arms over her head lazily. "I had such a good nap."

I chuckled, snapping my seatbelt on as she did the same. "I can tell."

"Didn't you sleep at all?"

"No. I got a bit of work done," I said motioning to my laptop.

She rolled her eyes at me, her palm going to my thigh where it rested. "You're such a workaholic. I really need to teach you how to relax from time to time."

"And how are you going to do that?" I asked with a knowing smirk.

"You'll see," she teased, leaning in for a kiss.

"I can't wait."

About twenty minutes later, we were getting into a black Mercedes. We had arranged our airport transfer through the hotel, and our pick up was waiting for us upon arrival. The driver was an elderly man who spoke really bad English.

"It's good we didn't have to take a cab," I said from the backseat, pulling Isabella closer to me. "I hate taxis."

"I'm so excited," she spoke, her right side buried into my shirt and her gaze trained on the passing buildings outside. "I never thought the opportunity to visit Prague would arrive so unexpectedly."

"I promise we're going to have a lovely week here," I whispered in her ear.

She nodded, hugging me. "I know."

Aria Hotel resembled some sort of musical boutique and was located in the famous Malá Strana neighborhood near the American Embassy. It was small and intimate, just as Isabella wanted. I had let her choose the hotel, my only request being that it was five stars. After searching the internet for two days, she had settled on this one. I would have preferred Marriot or Hilton, but Isabella didn't want to hear it. She kept insisting that we needed to "feel the city's unique atmosphere", and we couldn't do that in a busy hotel like the ones mentioned above.

"Wow," Isabella breathed at the sight of the building. A young bellboy came to take our luggage, and she stopped in the middle of the street for a few seconds, just taking in her surroundings. "I feel like even the air is different here."

"It probably is," I said, amused by her reaction.

Even from the entrance, you could tell this hotel's theme was music. Right by the front door, a tall music stand with an open score on it, welcomed us. As we advanced into the lobby, we were greeted by a beautiful horse miniature I had read about. It was said to be a copy of Myslbek's statue of Wenceslas on Wenceslas Square.

I tried to recapitulate in my mind everything I knew about Aria so far. It was small but select, only hosting a number of 52 rooms and suites. The artists celebrated by the hotel ranged from Dvorak to Elvis, Mozart, and to Billie Holiday. They had a music library complete with a Music Director that had a PhD in Musicology, a rooftop terrace with an amazing view of the city and a restaurant that was said to be one of the best in Prague. But what made this hotel special was its vicinity to the Vrtbovska Garden; a unique architectural gem registered with the UNESCO World Heritage site.

Making our way to the check in, I couldn't help but notice the fantastic attention to detail everywhere you turned your head; original art adorning the walls, sculptures, indoor fountain, fruit and fresh flowers, and last but not least, mosaic paving representing ancient music scores. So far, I was pleasantly surprised.

As we approached the front desk hand in hand, a lovely woman wearing an impeccable burgundy uniform met us with a wide smile. Her name-tag said Eliška.

"Welcome to hotel Aria," she said in a sing-song voice, her English bearing a slight accent. "What can I do for you?"

"We have a reservation under the name Cullen."

She nodded, typing something in her computer. "The Smetana Suite?"

"Yes," I confirmed, glancing at Isabella. She was taking in her surroundings, seemingly fascinated by what she saw.

"Seven days?" the receptionist asked.

"Yes."

She looked up from the computer screen. "How would you like to pay?"

Reaching into my jacket, I pulled out my wallet, handing her my credit card. She swiped it through the usual machine, returning it to me along with an additional object.

"Thank you, sir." She smiled brightly. "This is your fully loaded iPod, compliments of the hotel. Tomáš is going to show you to your room." She gestured towards a tall man dressed all in black who was waiting patiently. "Enjoy your stay."

"Thank you," I said, sliding the wallet into my back pocket and giving the iPod to Isabella. She took it from me with a delighted expression on her face.

The man led us to the elevator, motioning us to step inside ahead of him. He pushed the button for the third floor, linking his fingers in front of him as he waited for the short ride to be over.

"Edward, this place looks even better than the pictures," Isabella whispered as the metal doors opened and we stepped out into the long hallway.

"It certainly does," I said in her ear, keeping an arm around her shoulders. "I think it's actually a lot nicer than Marriot."

She glanced at me, not bothering to hide her triumphant smile. "Told you so."

Soon enough we were standing in front of door number 407. Our guide invited us to enter the suite with a grand gesture of his hand and a welcoming smile. I nudged Isabella gently, and she walked ahead, followed by me and Tomáš. Our luggage was already waiting for us. After giving us a brief introduction of the hotel and its history, Tomáš handed me the key then retreated with a nice tip in his pocket.

"Oh, I love the warm colors," Isabella gushed when we were finally alone. "And look, we even have an iPod docking station. And complimentary sweets. This has to be the best hotel ever."

I was standing in front of the window overlooking the famous Vrtbovska Garden. From what I was able to see, it was indeed worthy of its notoriety.

"Isabella, come here," I called over my shoulder, starting to remove my button down shirt with the intention of taking a shower.

"Oh my God," she murmured, coming to stand beside me. "It's a beautiful view."

"It certainly is," I agreed, staring at her profile a bit mesmerized.

She looked at me sideways and chuckled. "You're being cheesy."

"Why? I'm just voicing my thoughts. You don't consider yourself beautiful?"

She shrugged, turning around and taking over undoing the last few buttons. "Not really. More like cute."

"No," I argued softly, running my fingers through her loose hair. "Cute doesn't quite fit your description. You are…" I trailed off as I searched for the right word, "...stunning. Especially now with the sun caressing your face."

She ducked her head modestly, biting on her lip. "You're making me blush."

"I like it when you blush," I said, lifting her chin so she would look me in the eye. She truly was an amazing woman, and I felt my affection for her grow exponentially.

I kissed her slowly at first, but soon enough the kiss turned intense and passionate. Placing my hands on her ass, I brought her flush to my chest, the lust I had been trying to suppress for so many months hitting me in full force. I wanted her more than ever, and I let her know that through my actions. She fisted my undershirt, a moan escaping her throat and spurring me on. In return, I brought my hand to the front of her jeans and made quick work of the single button and zipper, cupping her intimately. I was about to slide a finger into her underwear when she pushed against me, causing me to stop.

"Not now," she breathed, looking up at me from under her thick lashes.

I groaned, getting downright frustrated. "When?"

"Tonight."

"I waited so long for this…" I said pleadingly. My persistent erection was becoming painful, making it hard to think of anything other than sex.

She cocked her head to the side, the corner of her mouth turning up into a smirk. "And you can wait a little longer."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I asked incredulously. "You like torturing me."

"Yes," she answered, lifting on her toes to whisper against my mouth. "Besides, I'm torturing myself as well." She stroked me through my pants a couple of times, and my eyes rolled to the back of my head at the sensation.

"Keep this up and see what happens," I said, swallowing hard.

She chuckled, keeping her hand on my crotch. "Are you threatening me?"

"Yes. I'm going to teach you a lesson tonight."

"What lesson might that be?" she inquired innocently.

"Never tease a sexually frustrated man."

She laughed heartily, taking a step back and turning on her heels. Moving her hips lasciviously, she headed towards the bedroom, leaving me panting for her touch.

Rubbing my eyes with my thumb and forefinger, I tried my best to compose myself. I was horny as hell, but I didn't want to force myself on her either. She had to be at least as willing as I was.

Moments later, her sultry voice called from the other room, "Oh man, this bed is _so_ comfortable."

"You are playing with fire, Isabella. And you're going to get burnt," I called back, enjoying her playfulness more than I should, given the condition I was in.

"Come join me," she lured in the same sultry voice, and my steps carried me to her automatically.

Just as I was entering the bedroom, she stepped into the adjoining bathroom completely naked. Her clothes were tossed all over the bed while her white lacy panties were lying on the floor. Throwing me a heated glance over her shoulder, she smiled in a self-satisfying matter and locked the door behind her.

I laughed huskily, having a hard time believing that the shy girl I had met almost seven months prior had morphed into this incredible vixen.

"Tease!" I yelled, picking up her discarded panties.

_~~ 0 ~~_

An hour later, we were having dinner at the CODA restaurant downstairs. The atmosphere in the dining room was not only extremely intimate but also very pleasant. In the middle of the room sat a large piano, while the dominant colors were green, orange, gray and beige; each table having its own unique design. Everything about this hotel was different from anything I had seen before, but in a good way. Even our plates had portraits of notorious music artists printed on them.

"How's the pork?" I asked, peering at Isabella over the rim of my wine glass.

She smiled, moving her braided hair from her shoulder to her back. "Delicious. How's the duck?"

"Tasty," I said, putting the glass down and cutting another piece. "Would you like a bite?"

She nodded, and I held the fork to her lips.

"Mmmm," she hummed as she chewed, closing her eyes briefly. "It _is_ tasty. I wonder how they cooked it."

"Chef's secret," said a passing waitress in a secretive voice, smiling at her.

Isabella chuckled in return. "I love it here," she said serenely, redirecting her attention to me. "The restaurant is beautiful and the staff is really nice."

I took another sip of my wine. "I couldn't agree more. Great décor… great food… great company. What else could I ask for?"

She analyzed me for a few seconds then sighed, placing her hand atop of mine. "A good night's sleep maybe?"

"I have to admit, I am a little tired," I said, turning my hand up and rubbing my thumb over her knuckles.

"I can tell from looking at your eyes."

"I think we'll leave visiting the city for tomorrow. Tonight I want to rest. I'm still feeling a little jet-lagged."

She nodded understandingly, turning my wrist so she could check the time. "Can we at least take a short walk? It's only seven thirty."

I wasn't in the mood for a walk, but I knew Isabella was eager to go out, even if it was only for a short while.

"Alright," I said, unable to deny her.

Content, she went back to her food, and I did the same. When we were done, our waiter came to clear our plates.

"Can I interest you in dessert?" he asked.

"Yes," Isabella replied. "What do you have on the menu?"

Patiently, he enumerated a few unusual denominations, making sure to explain what each of them was.

Isabella looked contemplative before placing her order. "I'll take the… Ovocné Knedlíky?" she said in a very bad accent, making me smile at her attempt at speaking Czech. According to the waiter, she had just ordered some sort of fruit dumplings.

"Sir?" he turned to me questioningly.

"No, thank you," I declined, shaking my head.

Right after dinner, we stepped outside into the still chilly March air. Holding hands, we took a right turn and began strolling down the quiet street. Since we didn't want to get too far away from the hotel, we stayed in the area.

We saw a couple of old churches; shared a traditional _trdelnik_ at Isabella's insistences, which consisted of sweet dough rolled around a metal cylinder and layered with sugar; and finally settled on a bench in a nearby park, simply relaxing and talking about what we'd seen so far. By the time we made it back to our suite it was well after 9 pm.

_~~ 0 ~~_

For the second time that evening, Isabella was taking too long in the bathroom. I was waiting for her in bed, clad only in my boxer briefs. Another minute passed and then five more without her making an appearance. Sighing, I turned onto my back and let my eyes close, my exhaustion luring me to sleep. I briefly wondered whether I had remembered to pack the condoms before falling into a light slumber.

Sometime later, the feel of a weight pressing down on me and soft hands running over my chest, woke me up.

I sighed in contentment, my arms instinctively wrapping around her. "Mmm. That feels good."

"I dressed up for you, so you'd better not fall asleep on me, Edward," she whispered, trailing seductive kisses up my neck.

Opening my still tired eyes, I saw that she had on a blue baby doll lingerie set. Her hair was loose again, and she had removed the make-up from her face.

"I like it," I murmured, taking a handful of the see-though fabric. My erection made its presence known, resting between Isabella's open thighs. "This color suits you really well."

"Yeah?" She captured my bottom lip with her deliciously plump ones, starting to grind on me at a slow rhythm.

"Yeah," I breathed, getting in the right mood quickly. Sleep was gradually becoming the last thing on my mind as another, more interesting, activity took its place.

She smiled, pleased. "You've been on such good behavior ever since we met that I thought you deserved something nice in return."

"I appreciate your thoughtfulness," I said, stroking her ass through her panties. "Now, can I rip it off?"

"No!" she exclaimed, slapping at my hand in case I had any intention of doing it. "It's expensive."

I chuckled at her reaction. "I'm joking," I said reassuringly, although I _would_ have tore it off of her if she'd let me. The fact that I hadn't been with a woman in almost two years didn't help my self-control at all. I sincerely hoped I was going to be able to last and make it good for her. It was our first time being intimate, and I didn't want to disappoint by coming too fast. I had jacked off while taking my shower, but I didn't think it was enough. She was soft and warm and so inviting that I had no idea how in the hell I was going to have the strength to go slow.

Rising in a sitting position with her perched up on my lap, I kissed along her collarbone before removing the thin straps from her shoulders. "I'll take it off so very… carefully."

Isabella let out a weak moan, and I bared her breasts, wasting no time in placing my mouth on them. They were firm and about the size of an orange, fitting perfectly in my hands. At the back of my mind, I knew it was juvenile of me to compare her breasts to oranges, but in my defense, my thoughts weren't very lucid. Her moan became louder as I rolled her nipple between my teeth and guided her hips up and down my cock at a steady pace.

"You like it when I do this?" I asked raggedly, my tongue flickering over her right nipple.

"Yes," she hissed, fisting my hair and tugging on it. "Yes. Oh."

Encouraged by the sounds she was making, I continued what I was doing until she began squirming on top of me impatiently. Grabbing the hem of her camisole with both hands, she pulled it over her head, leaving her torso bare for me to admire. The camisole ended up on the floor, and I began caressing her stomach, moving up to her sides, her breasts and finally settling on her rosy cheeks. She was flushed with arousal, the redness spreading out to her cleavage, while her dark eyes watched me intently.

"Lie back down," she ordered, pushing against my chest.

I obeyed, my temperature rising and my blood boiling in my veins at the way she was taking over control. I had never expected her to be so bold between the sheets, but I was enjoying it immensely. Her confidence made her incredibly sexy, and I found it difficult not to just pin her underneath me and have my way with her.

She stood up, her feet planted firmly on each side of my hips, and I let my lusty gaze trail from her perfectly manicured toes to her smooth legs, her feminine, hourglass curves and stopping at her face. Her body was much more toned than before; the result of accompanying me to the gym every week, and I had to admit I was pleased about it. Working out had been a routine of mine for many years, and I was glad that I was starting to rub off on her, because I considered it a healthy habit. Exercising not only built up her physical strength but also her body's immunity to a wide range of diseases; not to mention that it accentuated her natural curves as well.

She bit on her lip provocatively, hooking her thumbs into her lace panties and dragging them down the length of her shapely legs slowly. My eyes glued immediately to that part of her I hadn't seen before, and I almost had a heart attack when I saw that she'd had a Brazilian waxing done, a single thin strip of hair covering the most intimate part of her body.

"Isabella," I groaned, motioning for her to come to me. I was desperate to touch her; to put my mouth on every inch of her skin.

She shook her head, kneeling beside me on the mattress instead. Running her palms from my knees to the top of my boxer briefs, she repeated the same procedure, exposing me completely. She stared unashamedly, analyzing what she had to work with, her gaze alternating between my cock and my upper body a few times.

At that point, I was so hard I was having difficulties forming coherent thoughts. I wanted her and I wanted her right that instant. Taking hold of her wrist, I yanked her to me, and she let out a startled squeal, followed by a muffled laugh as I crashed my lips against hers forcefully. Without breaking the kiss, I rolled us over so that I was pressed flush against her, and her arms circled my waist as she held me to her.

We made out vigorously for a while. When I was done with her lips, I moved down towards her neck and breasts, all the while my hand traveling to where she needed me the most. She was so wet that the clear fluid had reached her inner thighs, and I rubbed two fingers against her folds before pushing them inside. At that, Isabella let out a loud moan, spreading her legs for me encouragingly.

I pumped in and out of her at a fast pace, my movements matching the intensity of her moans. She had her eyes closed, her expression screaming of pleasure, and for a moment I actually lost myself in watching her. She was so incredibly beautiful that I couldn't believe I had once considered her average. She was anything but.

"Look at me," I demanded, my voice rough with desire.

She did, and my eyes burned into hers as I started rubbing her clit and pushing into her at the same time. The stimulation suddenly became too much for her body to handle. Arching her back, she dug her heels into my ass cheeks and let out what sounded like a suppressed scream. Her walls clamped down as her orgasm took over her. In a desperate attempt to not disturb the entire floor, she clenched her teeth and clawed at the skin of my back, riding the last waves of euphoria as quietly as she could.

Isabella panted heavily, and I allowed her a minute to recover as I sat back on my knees.

"I need to get the condoms," I said a bit distracted, looking down at where my fingers had been. She was pink and glistening with arousal, and I could hardly contain myself not to slide right into her.

"No," she contradicted, causing me to look at her in confusion.

"No?"

"I'm on the pill," she said, running the tip of her right foot up and down my thigh.

My brow furrowed. "Since when?"

She swallowed, her chest rising and falling heavily. "Since last month. I knew we were going to get to this eventually and I really can't stand condoms. I'm clean, and I know you're clean…" she trailed off, looking at me warily.

"Why didn't you tell me you were getting on the pill?" I asked.

She simply shrugged, not having an answer.

"I'd be lying to say that I'm not pleased about this," I said sincerely. I hadn't used a condom in over ten years, and I didn't know what level of tolerance my body now had to them. "…but… are you sure?"

"I'm certain," she insisted, reaching for my hand and pulling me back on top of her. "Condoms make me sore for some reason. I think I have an allergic reaction to them or something. No condoms unless they're absolutely necessary, Mr. Cullen."

I smiled, liking how my surname sounded on her lips. "You don't need to tell me twice, Miss Swan," I murmured, relishing in the way she clung to me for dear life.

Her hands travelled down to my ass, squeezing firmly and urging me closer to where she wanted me. When I was aligned with her entrance, I took a deep breath. Propped on my elbows above her, I gazed into her expressive eyes and let it out in a staggered sigh. For the first time in my life, I was actually nervous about having sex with a woman.

"It's okay," she said comfortingly, pulling my head down to kiss away the crease of concentration between my eyebrows. "This first time is about you."

"Thank you," I whispered gratefully, my heart starting to beat faster for her. She still continued to amaze me with the patience and understanding she was showing me incessantly. But I didn't want to disappoint her. Not now, not ever.

I began pushing into her, and as soon as her natural warmth enveloped me, I let out a harsh groan. I paused when I was halfway in, allowing both of us to get accustomed to each other, then went in all the way, stopping once again. Leaning in to kiss her, I began the sensual rhythm of a man claiming a woman for the first time and making her his. Because that is exactly how I felt. The moment we connected both physically and emotionally, I felt entitled to justly consider her as mine. She belonged to me; I belonged to her, and there was no barrier standing between us anymore.

I kept my steady pace, from time to time placing a kiss here and there, but mostly focusing on my task of lasting as long as I could. At some point, Isabella's snicker brought me out of my concentrated haze.

"What?" I scowled at her, my pride a bit hurt that she found my love making skills amusing.

"You want to pump your way to the finish line so badly," she stated, reaching between us to stroke my happy trail.

"I can't," I gritted, refusing to be a one minute man.

Isabella chuckled. "Yes, you can. Don't be silly. Ravage me."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes. I want to be ravaged, Edward. No offense, but you're moving like an octogenarian."

My eyes became the size of saucers at her words. "Alright, that's it," I almost growled, pushing back onto my knees. "You're going to be fucked properly if that's what you want."

"Did I strike a chord?" she teased merciless, seeming satisfied with her persuasive ways.

"Yes," I hissed, hooking my arms under her knees and dragging her to me across the mattress. If there was something I was good at, it was sex, and I was going to prove it.

"I'm gla-," she didn't get the chance to finish her sentence before I slammed into her roughly. She cried out in surprise, her nails digging into my forearms as I began plunging my hips at the speed of a jackhammer.

"Oh God," she moaned, her eyes tightly shut.

"Like this?" I panted, forcing back the orgasm that was already threatening to wash over me.

"Yes, yes. Oh, oh, oh, ah!"

Her interjections combined with the way her head was thrashing from side to side was enough to bring me over the edge. Desperate to take her with me, I began applying pressure to her clitoris and rubbing fast circles.

Although it was clear she was enjoying herself, it was taking her too long to come. Making a quick decision, I pulled out, and she whimpered in protest.

"Get on all fours," I said, my cock pulsing; more than ready to have its release.

Isabella rolled onto her stomach, and I grabbed her hips, lifting them off the bed. She rested her weight on her forearms, spreading her legs and offering me a sight that took my breath away.

"You're killing me," I groaned, pushing back in as my hands greedily kneaded her ass. "You're going to unman me, Isabella."

"Harder," she moaned, fisting the sheets. "I'm so close."

In the throes of passion, all precaution suddenly went out the window. Her implement spurred me on, making me slam my groin against her so forcefully, erotic sounds resonated through the bedroom.

I was barely hanging on, and when she cried out into one of the pillows, her vaginal walls contracting around my cock, I felt relieved. Responding with a moan, I stilled my movements and let go, emptying inside of her. It was utter bliss, and now that I'd finally had her, I wondered how long I was going to be able to resist until I craved her again.

Still connected a minute later, I trailed my palms up to her waist and brought her back flush to my chest.

"Was it good for you?" I murmured, keeping one hand on her stomach while the other cupped her cheek so that I could press my mouth against hers.

She smiled, placing her hand atop mine on her stomach as she craned her neck to kiss along my jaw. "It was great. I might want to go again soon."

"You have to remember I'm an old man," I joked, referring to her earlier comment. "I could have a heart-attack or break a bone if I strain myself too much."

"I really _really_ don't care," she said, biting my chin playfully. "You'll have to keep up."

"Mmm. I like it when you're mean to me." I held her tighter, kissing and then sucking on her earlobe. "It's sexy. _You're_ sexy."

"You aren't so bad yourself," she retorted with a content sigh, and we stayed in an embrace for a little longer.

Eleven p.m. found us still in bed, watching TV. I was lying on my back while Isabella had an arm and leg thrown over me, her head resting on my chest. We were both still very much naked, only the thin sheet covering us, and we didn't plan on putting on clothes anytime soon. Completely exhausted by the long flight and our gymnastics session, I was on the verge of falling into unconsciousness when Isabella spoke up.

"Do you think they have strawberries here?"

"It's a five star hotel; they'd better have," I mumbled, keeping my eyes closed. "Why?"

"You know that cliché scene in movies when couples share a bowl of strawberries and clink glasses of champagne? I've always wanted to try that."

I sighed, looking at her in the dim light coming from the TV screen. She was still watching the movie, oblivious to the fact that I was mostly half-asleep.

"Say no more," I sighed. "Your wish is my command. Before we left Chicago, I promised to spoil you and that's what I intend to do."

Putting my need of rest aside, I reached over to the nightstand and picked up the phone to call room service. Five minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Getting out of bed, I put on a pair of flannel pants and headed into the sitting room to answer it. One of the waiters from the restaurant stepped inside, pushing a cart covered in white table linen. He greeted politely, walking over to the small dining area next to the window and placing our order on it along with a small vase of yellow and orange roses. I stared at the flowers, a bit surprised that they weren't the cliché red I detested so much. That gained the waiter a good tip, and he departed happily as I locked the door behind him.

Isabella came out of the bedroom just as I was opening the chilled bottle with a loud pop, her gaze landing on the bowl of fresh strawberries.

"These look so good," she said, picking one up and bringing it to her mouth.

"Get back in bed," I said, handing her the bowl as I grabbed the two glasses. "And take that t-shirt off. I like you better naked."

She smirked, saluting playfully. "Yes, Sir."

I chuckled. "I didn't mean to sound bossy, but I really want to get back under the covers."

"Naked, of course," she teased.

"Of course," I repeated with a smile, following after her, but not before making sure to pick up a yellow rose.

She tossed the t-shirt over a chair, sliding under the heavy comforter with the bowl of strawberries in her lap. I poured champagne into the glasses, handing her one along with the rose, then took off my pants and joined her in bed.

"You know yellow means jealousy, don't you?" she asked, sniffing the flower.

"I didn't know that."

"Are you the jealous type?" she asked again, and this time I could detect a hint of curiosity in her voice.

"Only if I'm given reasons to be."

"So, you're not overly jealous."

"No, I'm not," I assured. "Are you?"

She shrugged. "I don't think so."

"Here's to us, non-jealous people." I held the glass to her. She smiled, and we clinked before sipping on the bubbly alcohol.

Conversation flowed easily as the amount of alcohol in our systems increased. Half a bottle later and almost all the strawberries gone, we were back to making out and groping each other greedily.

Isabella was straddling me as I lavished her beautiful skin with kisses. She tugged at my hair, something I noticed she always did when she was on top; from time to time a sigh or a low moan escaping her. Another thing I noticed about her was that she was extremely sensitive when it came to her nipples. Using that to my advantage, I grabbed one of the glasses and looking up into her eyes, I poured a few drops of champagne onto her breast.

She gasped at the sensation, and I dipped my head down, licking her clean while keeping eye contact.

"Edward," she moaned, gripping my hair so hard, it actually hurt.

I smiled, silencing her with a kiss. I repeated the action on her other breast, and this time she threw her head back, her hands frantically traveling down my neck, shoulders and chest.

The chair to my right caught my attention, and an idea struck me. Keeping a firm hold on her, I got up and sat in the chair with her still in my lap. Dark-eyed with lust, she reached between us to stroke me a few times before lifting herself up and guiding me inside of her. We both moaned, and I leaned back, letting her take what she needed from me.

Later, she panted heavily into my neck, "Amazing."

I nodded sluggishly, exhausted in the most delicious of ways. "Exquisite."

_~~ 0 ~~_

"You're really good at this," she said the next day as I removed her legs from my shoulders and rolled onto my back.

"Mmhmm," I hummed, lifting her hand to place a kiss against her palm. "You are too."

It was past noon, and we had just woken up after a night spent in each other's arms. We took a long shower together, failing again to keep our hands to ourselves, and by two o'clock we somehow managed to get dressed and have a quick room-service delivered lunch.

I was trying to fix my hair in the bathroom's mirror when my phone started ringing.

"It's your mother," Isabella called apprehensively, showing up in the doorway seconds later.

I frowned, taking the phone from her. "Yes?" I answered, returning to my task of taming a rebellious strand.

"Edward, _dear_," Mom drawled, her tone dangerously sweet. "How are you? Or should I better say… _where_ are you?"

I sighed, shaking my head at my reflection. "I'm in Prague."

"Prague?" she inquired. "That's interesting. Are you with that woman?"

"Yes," I replied flatly.

"I see. She enjoys spending your money on expensive trips through Europe, doesn't she?"

"Don't make me hang up on you, because you know I will," I snapped, getting aggravated with her attitude.

"I just wanted to see you," she continued innocently in the same saccharine voice. "I took a detour to your apartment, and I had to find out from the _doorman_ that my son is on vacation."

"I thought Dad told you."

I had intentionally omitted to tell her I was leaving the country, and apparently so had Dad.

"It must have slipped his mind," she replied sarcastically.

"And you know that I don't like people showing up at my door unannounced."

"People?" she spat, her forced amiability taking a one hundred eighty degree turn. "I'm your mother. At least have the decency to show a minimal amount of respect towards me."

I was silent, not wanting to get her even more upset.

"When do you return?"

"Next Saturday."

She sighed exaggeratedly. "Will you come see me?" Her voice returned to a softer tonality, but she sounded like she was stepping on her pride by asking me that.

"I will, Mom," I said. "I promise I will."

"You can bring that girl if you want. I think it's time we've all met her."

"First of all, she has a name, mother." I was getting annoyed again in the span of mere seconds. "It's Isabella. And secondly, I don't think so."

"Why not? I need to know who this woman my son got involved with is, don't you think?"

"You'll meet her when I deem it's appropriate. Until then, try to at least remember her name, will you?" I shot back, glancing at Isabella. She was listening to my side of the conversation with her arms crossed over her chest and her stare fixed on the tile floor.

"Edward…"

"I have to hang up now. We have some visiting to do."

I ended the call, placing the phone on the vanity and facing the mirror again.

"She wants to meet me?" Isabella asked with a confused frown.

"Unfortunately for you, yes. But there's enough time for that. For now, let's concentrate on our trip, shall we?"

"I don't think I'm ready to face your mother," she admitted. "I'm more scared of her than ever."

"You don't have to," I said, giving up on the damn hair and turning to her. "When you're up to it, let me know and we'll arrange something."

"Okay." She nodded, taking a few steps and wrapping her arms around me. "I may never be up to it, though."

I smiled sadly. "I couldn't blame you. In all honesty, she's not a bad person, but she definitely has a temper on her. Not to mention that she's extremely hard to please."

"She'll never accept me."

"You can't know that. Maybe one day she'll realize that a mere social status doesn't define who you are. One can only hope."

She nodded again, but didn't look very convinced.

Deciding to leave this unpleasant conversation for another time, we put on warm clothes and left the hotel, starting our tour of the old city. The weather seemed a bit colder than the previous day, dark clouds covering the sky and threatening to ruin our plans of visiting Prague's most important monuments.

Despite the fact that it was supposed to be a quiet period in regards to foreign tourists, you could find them everywhere you turned your head. During our walk from the hotel to Charles Bridge, I could detect at least three different languages being spoken around us.

Charles Bridge, our first stop, had been built around the 14th century and was crossing Vltava River, connecting the Lesser Quarter with the Old Town. It was decorated by a continuous alley of thirty statues and statuaries, most of them baroque-style, and I had to admit I hadn't seen anything quite like it before.

"It says here the statues were originally erected around 1700, but now they are all replaced by replicas," Isabella read from the book we had bought from the hotel's library and were using as a guide.

She had a concentrated expression on her face as she absorbed as much information as she could, and my first impulse was to take the digital camera out of my coat's pocket and snap a picture. She looked up, and I smiled, pushing the button and immortalizing her once again. Her nose and cheeks were pink from the cold, matching the bright red knitted beanie that covered her head.

"Hey," she protested, her brow furrowing. "That's not fair. I wasn't paying attention."

"That's the beauty of taking pictures," I replied, snapping yet another one.

"Well then, come take one with me."

An elderly couple was just passing us by, and I approached the man. "Excuse me. Do you speak English?"

"Yes," he said amusedly in a thick British accent.

"Oh, great," I chuckled. "Could you take a picture of us?"

"Sure." He smiled, taking the camera from me.

I jogged over to Isabella and wrapped my arms around her from behind, my chin resting on her shoulder blade. She leaned into me, her fingers squeezing mine as we both looked at the gray-haired man and waited.

"Where are you from, if you don't mind me asking?" he said, returning the camera and draping an arm around his wife's waist.

"Chicago," I answered, imitating their posture. "And you?"

"Liverpool. Is this your first time in Prague?"

"Yes."

"It's our seventh," his wife said, beaming at her husband adoringly.

"Wow. You must know the city really well," Isabella observed.

The man laughed. "Indeed. We like to travel, but somehow this is our favorite place in the world. I'm Aldred," he introduced himself. "And this is my wife Mary."

"It's nice to meet you." We shook their hands. "Edward and Isabella."

"What a lovely couple you make," Mary said.

"Thank you." I smiled down at Isabella.

"We were heading towards Prague Castle. Have you seen it yet?"

"No, we arrived yesterday so we haven't seen much."

"How about you join us?" Aldred offered. "I know Prague like the back of my hand."

I looked at Isabella questioningly.

"Yeah, sure," she retorted. "We'd love to."

"Fantastic," he said as we all started walking. "You know, we have a son your age, but he's not that into traveling. He works so much, sometimes I wonder how in bloody hell he doesn't suffocate in that office of his."

Isabella chuckled, giving me a pointed look. "Edward works just as much. He just realized it was time he took a break."

"Better late than never is what I always say. There's still hope for you, whereas my son is forever lost," he joked, causing Mary to roll her eyes at him.

The reference to their son made me think that there was a big possibility my parents and I were never going to go on vacation together again. Mom's aversion to Isabella was never going to disappear completely; of that I was sure. While Dad was kind an understanding, my mother was capable of holding a grudge for the rest of her life. It was sad but true. As long as my relationship with Isabella lasted and my mother's hatred persisted, my personal relation with my family was never going to be the same as before.

We walked at a leisurely pace as Aldred pointed to the monuments we passed, explaining what they were. Once inside the castle, he continued assuming the role of our guide as he began telling its history.

"During the Nazi occupation of Czechoslovakia during World War II, Prague Castle became the headquarters of Reinhard Heydrich, the 'Reich Protector of Bohemia and Moravia.' It is said that he placed the Bohemian crown on his head; old legends say that a usurper who places the crown on his head is doomed to die within a year. Less than a year after assuming power, Heydrich was assassinated."

"Interesting story," I said, fascinated by the man's interminable knowledge.

He smiled. "True story."

"The architecture is great," Isabella noticed, touching one of the stone walls reverently.

I nodded with approval. "I think it's Gothic."

"It is Gothic," Aldred stated, launching into another long explanation about the methods used to build the castle hundreds of years ago.

Isabella listened to his peroration with genuine interest, and I moved closer to her, unable to keep my distance. I gathered her in an embrace, my nose burying into her hair as I inhaled her sweet perfume. I felt to urge to have her only to myself; to go back to our suite and lock us there for the remainder of our stay. I felt greedy. I felt insatiable. I felt like I was coming alive again.

_~~ 0 ~~_

By seven in the evening, my legs were aching from so much walking. The city was absolutely breathtaking, but I was just too tired to enjoy the views anymore. Aldred and Mary had retreated to their hotel for dinner while we were still strolling down the narrow streets aimlessly.

Despite the heavy clouds, it hadn't started raining yet, although I was willing to bet we were going to have a stormy night. The thought of snuggling up in bed with Isabella while listening to rain drop, was enough to make me crave the warmth of her naked body. I glanced at her and saw that she was admiring the glossy showcases, oblivious to the perversions crossing my mind.

Sex with her was great. Really great. So great, I couldn't have enough of it. And the fact that her public behavior contrasted so much with her sexual persona was a big plus. While to an outsider she may have seemed shy and inexperienced, once in bed all inhibitions evaporated into thin air. She was fierce and confident in her feminine charms, putting a lot of more versed women to shame. In all honesty, she was actually so much more than I had hoped for in a lover.

A sudden pain in my stomach region reminded me that I was beginning to experience another kind of hunger.

"I think we've seen enough for one day. I'm starving," I complained, rubbing a hand over my growling stomach.

Isabella sighed, not seeming in any rush to go back inside. "Okay."

"We have an entire week to visit the city from one end to another," I consoled, kissing her forehead and pulling her close.

"This has to be the most amazing place in the world," she said dreamily, hugging me.

I chuckled. "Wait until you see Paris."

"You've been?" She gazed up at me with twinkling eyes. "Duh, stupid question, of course you have."

"I even speak a bit of French."

"You do?"

"Mmhmm," I hummed affirmatively. "A bit of French, a bit of Italian…"

Isabella looked contemplative for a moment. "How many countries have you been to so far?"

"Let's see…" I searched my memory. "I've been to Spain, Portugal, France and Monaco, Italy –including The Vatican and Sicily-, Germany, Sweden, Denmark, Holland, Liechtenstein, Switzerland, England, Russia, Hungary, Turkey, Greece, Austria, Iceland, Japan, China, South Korea, Morocco, Egypt, Mauritania, India, Brazil, Jamaica, Haiti, Venezuela, Costa Rica, Mexico… and that's about it."

"Man, I'm so insanely jealous," she lamented. "But you've never been to Australia?"

"Not yet, but it's on my list along with New Zealand, South Africa, Thailand and a few other places."

"I guess you've seen a lot of the US too, huh?"

"You could say that."

A mother and her daughter who looked to be about eight passed by us, carrying shopping bags. Isabella's head turned after them, the corner of her mouth lifting up into a smile. "Except for the state of Washington, I've only been to Oregon, California and Michigan."

"You've never been to New York?" I asked, my gaze following after hers. The little girl had blond hair and was dressed all in white, reminding me of Jessica a few years back.

"Nope," she said, seeing I had turned to look as well. "Cute kid, right?"

"Yes," I assented. "And we need to rectify that. New York is one of the best cities out there."

"If I had the money, I'd probably be traveling every month."

"What's the next country you'd like to see?"

"France," she said, not missing a beat.

"Well then, don't make any plans for this upcoming summer because we're going to France."

She abruptly halted in the middle of the street, looking at me awestruck. "You seriously have to be the best boyfriend ever," she breathed, jumping with her arms around my neck and placing sloppy kisses all over my face.

I laughed heartily. Best boyfriend or not, I was going to do everything in my power to make her every wish come true. I was capable of bringing her the moon and stars if she asked me to, because whether I wanted to admit it to myself or not, I was starting to fall for her at breakneck speed.

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><p><strong>AN Just wanted to let you guys know that I'm going to take a short break from writing TPB. I have a long overdue future-take I need to write for my other story; so expect the next chapter of TPB in about three weeks to a month.**

**Let me know what you thought of this chapter :) **

**~ Andreea ~**


	17. Chapter 16: In love

**A/N First of all, I want to apologize to those of you who read Her Enigma. I haven't been able to write the futuretake, so I went back to writing this chapter of TPB. Unfortunately, I realized that at the moment I'm too immersed in this story to be able to get in the mind of my other characters. I really am sorry, but I do promise that as soon as I get the inspiration I'm going to write the overdue futuretake. I only hope that you can find it in your hearts to forgive me, because I hate to disappoint.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 16<strong>

**Isabella Pov**

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><p><em>~ April 4th, 2012 ~<em>

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

I stared at the picture in my hand, unable to keep a smile from forming on my lips. My arms circled Edward's torso while his were draped around my shoulders securely as we both smiled widely at the camera. Behind us, Prague Castle's thick walls were serving as background, along with a few other tourists unknowingly intruding into our memento in the making. It was one of the many photos taken by Aldred and his wife, the elderly couple we'd spent our first three days with, until they were due to return to UK.

Leaning back into the comfortable couch, I placed the picture back into the album I'd bought a week ago, and picked up another one of me lying in our hotel bed. I was dressed in the sexy PJ's I had bought especially for that trip and was savoring a piece of chocolate from a box we'd purchased on one of our aimless walks through the city's narrow streets. Edward had just stepped out of the shower, and when he had seen me with the half-empty box in my lap, he'd laughed, deciding to immortalize the moment. His amusement had transferred over to me, and the camera had captured an embarrassing image of me with my mouth parted, offering glimpses of chocolate stained teeth. In contrast with the provocative pajamas I had on, I had to admit I looked hilarious. Edward had teased me about it, threatening to duplicate the photo and put a smaller one in his wallet, and I had threatened back to scratch the paint of his precious BMW 8 Series if he ever dared doing so. That had shut him up, and I realized I had found one of his weak spots. _Men and their toys._

Turning the page, my eyes settled on Edward's bare ass, and I chuckled at the memory. Feeling playful one morning, I had followed him into the bathroom and snapped a picture of his toned posterior while he took care of his physiological needs. He'd chased me around the suite and we had ended up having sex on the fluffy rug in the living area. Afterwards, examining my work of art, he himself admitted that he had a 'very nice ass' indeed.

Turning page after page, I reached the end of the album and sighed wistfully. I didn't think I could ever thank Edward enough for the gift he had offered me by paying for that trip to Prague. It was one of the places I had wanted to visit ever since I was a child, and he had made my dream come true with a few phone calls. To me, it had been the most amazing experience, something I wished I could live again as soon as possible.

Edward had promised we were going to France in the summer, and I could barely reign in my excitement and impatience, knowing I had to wait another three or four months until we were both able to take time off again.

I got up and walked over to the drawer underneath the TV where Edward kept all his photo albums, placing our first one inside. Straightening my back and stretching my arms over my head, I headed over to the large windows and glanced outside, seeing it was already dark. I sighed and checked my watch. It was past eight, and Edward hadn't arrived from work yet.

The day we had returned from Europe, he had decided to give me a key to his condo so I could come and go whenever I pleased. Ever since, I had spent almost every night at his place. A few of my clothes and toiletries were now mingled with his, and it amazed me how fast our relationship was growing. Never before had I been so eager to give myself to a man in both body and soul, and while in the past I had been reluctant to take this sort of steps, with Edward it all came naturally. He was different; I could feel it with every cell of my body. He was the man who had the ability to break me beyond repair, and it scared me how vulnerable I felt when it came to him.

Spinning on my heels, I headed over towards the kitchen to check on dinner. The lasagna was done, but the tomato soup needed a bit more stirring. I turned off the oven and as I began stirring the soup, my mind involuntarily flew to the first time Edward and I had sex only weeks prior.

I smiled to myself remembering his expression when I started taking control in bed. As shy as I could sometimes be when it came to the opposite sex, between the sheets all of my inhibitions and small complexes disappeared completely. The fact that I hadn't been intimate with anyone in quite some time had helped me loosen up, but so had the laid-back relationship Edward and I shared. He made me feel so comfortable in my own skin, something no other man had managed before.

I had expected him to be good at sex, but he had actually exceeded my expectations, and I could only come up with two plausible options. Either he was that great, or we simply matched in that department really well. Either way, I felt like I had finally found a man who was able to satisfy my needs by carefully balancing his wild side with his more tender side. He was a perfect combination of romantic and fierce, and I loved it.

Actually, I loved _him _but that was something I preferred not to dwell on. My feelings for him had grown exponentially over the weeks, and I couldn't deny them anymore. I loved him and that was that. I was resigned with the fact that I had to wait until he was ready to correspond, even though it was eating at me not being able to scream it from the top of my lungs. He had already proven that given time and patience, he was able to open up and let himself feel again. I only had to let him do things at his own pace.

Sometime later, keys twisting in the lock let me know that Edward had arrived home, and my heart started beating faster in anticipation. I hadn't seen him since that morning when he had dropped me off at school, but it felt like I hadn't laid eyes on him in forever. The sound of discarded shoes echoed through the silence, and soon after he showed up in the doorway. He was wearing his thick-rimmed glasses, a navy blue suit and matching button down, paired with a skinny black tie, and I had to bit my lip at the sight of him. His hair was its usual styled self, and I couldn't wait to run my hands through it and make it disheveled.

"Hey." He smiled, taking off his glasses and placing them on the countertop.

"Hi," I greeted with a smile of my own. "You look tired."

He had been working late ever since we had come back from our trip, and it bothered me to see him so exhausted every single night.

He sighed, walking over to me and placing his hands on my hips. "I am," he murmured, leaning down to kiss me softly a couple of times. Then he buried his nose in my neck and inhaled deeply, his arms wrapping around my waist tightly. "Can we go back to Europe?"

"I wish," I said, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck gently.

"Yeah, me too." He straightened up, sniffing the air curiously. "What are you making? It smells good."

"Soup," I answered, gesturing towards the pot on the stove.

"Soup?" He frowned, making a face. "Why?"

I rolled my eyes at him, freeing myself from his embrace to turn off the stove and cover the pot with a lid. "That's what I feel like having."

"I need something more consistent," he grumbled in return, heading over to the fridge and peering inside.

"There's lasagna in the oven," I replied, already reaching down to get it.

He chuckled, closing the refrigerator's door. "I knew there was a reason I loved you."

I froze with my hand on the oven door, my eyes taking saucer proportions as I stared blankly at the tile wall in front of me. I was sure I was starting to hear things, because he hadn't just said that to me.

"I didn't mean…" Edward started, his voice tentative, and I spun around to look at him. His right hand was tightly clutching his reddish locks while the expression he was wearing resembled one of pure horrification.

"You didn't?" I whispered, my stomach sinking in disappointment.

"I mean, I did," he stammered, swallowing audibly. "I just…" His grip on his hair tightened, nervousness oozing from every pore of his skin. "That was a horrible way of telling you."

"Yeah, it kind of was," I admitted, nodding numbly, still pretty much in shock. "Do you really love me?"

His green abysses, usually so hard to read, suddenly softened, revealing the weakness he was trying to keep hidden.

"I do," he murmured, watching me apprehensively. "I never thought I would fall in love again so soon after Tanya's death. I just…" he sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing a hand over his face. "I can't help it. I love you, Isabella. And I'm sorry for bringing it up like tha-"

I shut him up by launching myself at him and gluing my lips to his. His eyes snapped open at the unexpected contact, and I pressed my body to his hard one, causing him react and bring me flush to his chest.

"I love you, too," I confessed in between kisses, a wave of euphoria washing over me. I had never thought I would be hearing those words from him so soon, and I briefly wondered if I was dreaming. Maybe I had fallen asleep while looking at pictures and this whole scene was the result of my own unfulfilled desire.

"You do?" he breathed, his palms cupping my butt and squeezing firmly, something I had noticed he did when he was getting aroused. If I had to place Edward in a category, I could definitely say he was an ass man.

"Yeah," I replied sincerely, glad that I could finally express my feelings for him. "I've loved you for quite some time."

Edward groaned, assaulting me with passionate kisses. "I think this requires celebrating," he said, lifting me up on the counter and settling between my thighs.

"I agree." I smiled, wrapping my legs around his and pulling him closer.

His deft fingers slipped underneath my t-shirt, wasting no time in unclasping my bra. He kissed me deeply, his hands kneading my breasts as his growing erection pressed against the spot where he was mostly needed. His thumbs started rubbing firm circles around my nipples, and I let out a low moan, enjoying his ministrations.

In the short time since we had started being intimate, Edward had learned more about my body than my two other boyfriends had in years. He knew how to make me so aroused that I lost my head, he knew almost all of my sensitive spots, and more importantly, he was able to bring me to orgasm without having to put too much effort into it. He was more than willing to please, and everything I asked of him he did, making sure I was never left unsatisfied.

Another thing I liked about Edward was his creativity. When it came to sexual positions he was usually the first one to suggest we try a new position. Some of them I knew and had tried before, while others were worthy of an advanced gymnastics session. I had to say I was quite impressed with his love-making skills so far. With him, not only was I learning new things about sex in general, but also about my own body and its reaction to different stimuli.

Edward pulled my t-shirt over my head then removed the bra, his hot mouth descending towards my breasts. Keeping his gaze locked with mine, he flickered his tongue over my left nipple, causing goose bumps to spread all over my skin.

The fact that he liked to keep eye contact in the throes of passion, was an incredible turn on. The act of staring into your lover's eyes while he pushed into you was the most erotic thing I had ever experienced. It made me feel naked on the inside, like I was baring my soul to him, but it also made me feel incredibly beautiful. He always stared at me with such intensity and adoration, like no other man had ever done before. I had no idea if that was just the way he was in bed, or if his feelings for me ran more deeply than I had initially thought.

Still gazing into his dark green eyes, I took hold of his hair and tugged on it, making him grunt in appreciation. He then smirked mischievously, his lips making their way down to my stomach and settling at the top of my jeans. Slowly, he ran his palms up my thighs until he reached his destination. He popped open the button then slid the zipper down, teasing me by hooking his forefinger into the hem of my panties and peering inside playfully.

All of a sudden, he straightened up, taking a step back, and I scowled, instinctively reaching for him.

"Where are you going?" I whined in protest.

Instead of answering, he walked away, grabbed a kitchen chair and came back with it.

"What are you doing?" I asked when he began pulling my jeans down my legs and then my panties.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he replied, taking a seat in the chair, right between my parted legs.

I chuckled. "Are you seriously going down on me while I'm on the kitchen counter?"

"Yes," he said simply, pulling me towards the edge and placing my legs on his shoulders. "Lie on your back."

Amused, I did as he requested, resting my hands on my stomach as I looked up at the cabinets above me. He began placing soft kisses on the inside of my thighs as he ascended, and I let out a contented sigh. He was sporting a five o'clock shadow, making my skin tingle every time his face came in contact with it. Soon enough, his mouth reached my opening, and he parted my folds with his fingers. He began kissing my clit softly, and I moaned, the gesture clouding my mind with lust.

"Edward," I breathed, amusement leaving me as desire took its place. I grabbed his hair again, my thighs clamping down on his head as I shut my eyes and let myself feel what he was doing.

He grunted in response, opening me wider and sliding two fingers inside. He began pumping them in and out of me at a slow pace, all the while his tongue rubbing circles around my clitoris, and I arched my back, already more than ready to come. He kept the same rhythm for a little while longer, and it didn't take me long to have my first orgasm. I cried out quietly as my toes curled and my body spasmed violently.

Through my haze I heard a moan coming from Edward, and I looked down to see him fixing me with a predatory look on his face. Rising to his feet, he kicked the chair back and started undressing with such vigor, I thought he was going to rip the clothes in the process. He took his button down and undershirt off in mere seconds, and I couldn't help but ogle his chiseled chest and prominent six pack. He had gained a few pounds in the last few weeks, but I suspected those were actually the pounds he had lost a year back with the stress of Tanya's death, because they fitted him perfectly.

My eyes trailed over his strong arms as they made quick work of his belt buckle, and I had to keep myself from panting for his touch. He discarded his pants and boxers, tossing them carelessly in the same heap as our other clothing items.

"Are you still wearing your socks?" I asked amused as he stepped back between my legs and leaned down on top of me.

"Yes." He grinned, hooking his arms under my knees and placing my feet on the edge of the counter.

"Mmm. Kinky," I joked.

"I know," he breathed, his tongue running across my bottom lip. "You make my kinky side surface when you're spread out like this, waiting for me to take you."

At his words, I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. The weight of his torso pressed down on me in the most delicious way, and I relished in the gentle touch of his hands as they ran up my sides until they reached my breasts. We made out vigorously, his erection waiting idly against my folds. He was hard and throbbing and I couldn't wait to have him inside of me. It had only been hours since our last coupling, but I was already desperate for him.

"I want you," I mumbled, my hand wiggling its way between us to stroke him a few times and to get him ready.

Placing one last peck against my lips, he smiled and pushed himself off me. Parting my legs as wide as they would go, he glanced down and started probing me once more to make sure I was prepared to receive him.

"You're so wet," he whispered in a husky voice, retreating his fingers and taking one to his mouth.

I groaned, the sight of him tasting me like that, making my temperature rise. His smile morphed into a knowing smirk, and without wasting anymore time, he aligned himself with my entrance, pushing all the way in easily. We both moaned in unison at the sensation, and soon a slow rhythm began.

"Isabella," he murmured, looking at me like he wanted to devour me. Taking my hands into his large ones, he brought one to his lips and started placing wet reverent kisses against my palm.

Shivers ran down my spine as sentiments of love and adoration for the man above me rocked my entire being. I had never thought I would become so immersed in someone that I forgot all about myself. It was like all I had ever known about my persona prior to meeting Edward was now irrelevant. He had changed to way I saw myself and the world, and I was certain he was the best thing that had ever happened to me. He was quickly becoming not only my number one priority but also the most important person in my life. I was dedicating myself to him completely both physically and emotionally, and when we were together everything around us stopped existing.

It was scary.

It was confusing.

It was liberating.

It was love.

_~~ 0 ~~_

Later that night we were lying in bed, pretending to watch TV. Edward had fallen asleep the moment his head had hit the pillow and was now snoring lightly beneath me while I stared blankly at the flat screen, fantasizing about our future together.

My mind was running wild, making up explicit scenarios involving me and Edward getting married and living the life I had always dreamed about. I even imagined his proposal, coming out as spontaneous as those three important words had earlier. My thoughts were as premature as those of a teenage girl with a crush, the only thing lacking for my sudden burst of puerilism to be complete consisting of the cliché "Isabella Cullen" scribbled on each notebook I owned.

I chuckled to myself quietly, because I really couldn't help it. Edward managed to bring out strong family instincts in me that I was unaware I had. I mean, I had always known I wanted a family of my own, but I'd always thought that would happen long after I finished my studies. Now, I wasn't so sure about that. If our relationship continued to develop as harmoniously as it had, who knew what could happen next. The future was extremely unpredictable.

Sometime later, a deep craving for something sweet arose in me, and I got out of bed, padding barefoot towards the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" Edward's sleepy voice stopped me in my tracks just as I was exiting the room. I turned around to face him and saw that he was peering at me through barely open slits.

"I'm craving ice cream," I said, resting my palm against the doorway.

He sighed, turning onto his side and hugging my vacant pillow. "And where are you going to find ice cream at this hour?" he grumbled, clearly displeased that I had left the bed.

"In your fridge," I stated, and he looked up with a confused frown. "What? Susan bought it."

"Mmhmm," he murmured, burying his nose in my pillow. "Bring me some as well."

"You're not allowed," I teased. "You're on a diet."

"Since when?" he asked lazily, keeping his eyes closed.

"Since now. I want it all to myself."

He chuckled huskily, throwing me a quick leer. "I like it when you're greedy."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Perv."

When I came back with the ice cream about fifteen minutes later after a relatively short phone call with Kate, he was sitting up, staring at the TV. I slid in next to him, pulling the comforter to my waist and handing him a spoon.

"What are we watching?" I inquired, seeing he had changed the channel.

"A movie," he said, pushing the spoon into the large tube and taking it to his mouth.

"I can see that. I meant what movie."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I have no idea. But it stars Richard Gere, and I thought you'd like to watch it."

I stared at his profile in amazement. He had remembered such a trivial thing about me. If that didn't say something about his personality, I don't know what did.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, glancing at me when he realized I had grown silent.

I smiled, shaking my head. "I love you."

He returned the smile, leaning in to peck my lips softly. "I love you, too."

"Thank you," I breathed, nuzzling my nose with his.

"What for?"

"For being mine."

He nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Thank you for waiting for me."

_~~ 0 ~~_

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous," Angela snapped the next morning as I made it through the front door of the apartment we shared. She still had on her pajamas and was holding a mug with what smelled like coffee in it. If her frown was of any indication, I could say she was mad at me.

"What?" I said defensively, tossing my bag on the floor and taking off my shoes. "What did I do?"

"I barely see you anymore," she accused, planting one hand on her hip firmly. "You spend so much time at Edward's, you could just move in with him already."

I hung the jacket I was wearing on the hallstand before making my way to my room. She followed, standing in front of me as I plopped down on the bed.

"We're getting to know each other better. You know how relationships are in the beginning."

"Yeah, I know," she said sarcastically. "It's all about fucking like jackrabbits."

I rolled my eyes at her petulantly.

"You know it's true. You've been praising his magical dick every single day since you came back from Europe."

"I have not," I argued, starting to remove my clothes in order to take a shower.

"Yes, you have. '_Oh, Edward is so great in bed. Oh, he's so inventive. Oh, he's so attentive. Oh, his dick is so big_,'" she burlesqued, making faces. "I get it, he's hung like a stallion and he has mad skills. Now can I please have sexually frustrated Bella back?"

"I just…" I sighed in frustration, yanking the socks from my feet. "I'm in love with him, okay?"

"Say what?" She gaped, blinking rapidly.

It was my turn to snap at her irritably. "You heard me. I love him."

Angela was silent for a moment. "Oh, Bella," she said, seeming at a loss of how to react at the new piece of information. "Does he at least love you back?"

"He told me last night," I mumbled, getting up clad only in my underwear. Picking up my discarded clothes, I headed over to the bathroom, tossing them into the hamper. When I spun around to leave, I bumped into Angela who had abandoned her mug somewhere in my room.

"When is he coming over?" she inquired with narrowed eyes, having regained her attitude quickly. "I need to have a serious conversation with him."

"No, you don't," I contradicted, giving her a pointed look. She was a great friend and everything, but I didn't need her terrorizing my boyfriend or scaring him away. Not that he was easily scared, but I preferred that she didn't interfere. Our feelings were between Edward and me and so were their eventual consequences.

"Yes, I do," she argued stubbornly. "He has to know that if he ever hurts you I'm going to castrate him and throw his balls in Lake Michigan for the fish to feed."

"Oh, he probably knows, don't worry," I tried to placate her.

"Seriously now." She placed her hands on my shoulders, giving them a little squeeze. "If he's ever being a dick to you, you come to me."

"Okay, mobster," I joked. "I come to you. Now can we drop it? He's a good man and you're very much aware of that."

"Yeah, yeah." She leaned against the washing machine as I turned on the shower.

"How's Ben doing?" I changed the subject, taking off my underwear and stepping under the warm spray of water.

Their relationship was going smoother than any of us had expected, and I could see a change in both of them. Ben was making efforts to keep his jealousy and possessiveness in check, which was a big deal for him. I had known him ever since we were kids and he had always been a bit controlling, but now he really seemed to have changed for his girlfriend's sake. Angela on the other hand, was happier than she had been in a long while, her love for Ben written all over her face.

"He's working his ass off. The CEO is planning on cutting off about fifty employees."

"Ouch."

"Yeah." She sighed sadly. "Anyway, what are you doing today after work?"

"I don't know," I answered, grabbing the shower gel and squirting some in my palm.

"How about we go see a movie or something?" She suggested. "We haven't gone out together in forever."

"Yeah, sure." I peered around the curtain at her. "Do you have the day off?"

She smiled. "Sure do."

"Okay. Come pick me up at seven then."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Work was uneventful. Kate was in and out running errands the entire time I was at the bookstore, while I occupied myself stocking the shelves with the new books we had received that morning and reading for my American Literature class when there weren't any customers.

As I was emptying the boxes, I stumbled upon a fantasy book with an interesting cover. Thinking it would be perfect for Jessica, I put it aside to take home. While Edward had spent time with her at Christmas and at Tanya's memorial, I hadn't laid eyes on her in quite some time. Even though I knew the relationship between Edward and Emmett was strained, I wanted to hand Jessica the book myself. So I made a mental note to ask Edward to bring her over to his condo one of the following days, and prayed that neither his older brother or his sister-in-law had anything against it.

Angela picked me up at seven as set and drove us over to the closest mall. While she purchased the tickets to the anticipated sequel of a blockbuster, I called Edward who was still at the office. We didn't get to talk much because he was busy and hung up after only about a couple of minutes of hurried conversation with the promise of calling me back as soon as he got home. With a resigned sigh, I took the ticket Angela was offering me and walked towards movie hall number 3, trying not let Edward's tight schedule put a damper on my evening.

Two hours later we were heading towards Burger King to indulge ourselves in an unhealthy late dinner. As we were passing a Chinese food restaurant, a familiar figure standing outside the entrance caught my eye. As her aimless gaze inevitably slid my way, her face lit up in recognition.

"Bella, hi!" Alice exclaimed, seeming ecstatic to see me.

"Oh, hey Alice," I said, stopping in my tracks in front of her and taking her in. She looked as fashionable as ever in metallic silver pumps and a blue leather jacket, but her dark hair had grown exponentially, reaching past her shoulders.

She enveloped me in a hug. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"I know." I smiled, returning the hug, still a bit surprised that I had ran into her. "Wow, your hair has grown so much."

"You like it?" she asked, flipping it over her shoulder.

"Yeah, I do. I love it." Beside me Angela shifted her weight from one foot to the other, and I gestured towards her. "This is Angela, my roommate."

"Hello." Alice extended her hand politely in greeting. "I'm Alice. Edward's future sister-in-law."

Angela nodded, shaking the outstretched hand. "Hey."

"I heard you and Edward were on vacation a couple of weeks ago," Alice said, redirecting her attention to me.

"Mmhmm," I hummed affirmatively.

"Esme had a fit when she found out." She chuckled, moving the shopping bags she was holding into her left hand.

"I bet she has a fit at the mere mention of my name."

"Something like that."

"I really hope I won't get to meet her too soon," I said jokingly, but Alice suddenly became serious.

"Maybe you _should_ meet her," she said, glancing over her shoulder with an air of anxiety. Curiously, I followed her fugitive gaze, but all I could see behind the glass windows was people enjoying their food. "That way she'll realize you're not the opportunist slut she thinks you are. Pardon the appellative."

"I don't know, Alice…" I trailed off, still staring past her. An imposant blonde was making her way through the tables, her intense eyes boring into mine, and I had a feeling she was heading towards us.

"I sincerely think that by avoiding her you're digging yourself an even bigger hole. You're only giving her more reasons to doubt you. Why don't you come to the family dinner next Saturday? She'll at least appreciate that she gets to see Edward. Besides, I don't think she's going to be rude to you openly."

"Uh… I'll have to discuss it with Edward first," I said absently, watching as the blonde exited the restaurant and stood beside Alice. There was something about her defiant posture and the way she was fixing me with her cerulean irises that made me uneasy.

"I got it." The woman announced, holding up a bag with the restaurant's logo and still looking at me. "Hello."

Alice startled, a small crease forming between her eyebrows as he introduced us. "Bella, this is Rosalie, Emmett's wife and Jessica's mom," she said softly, looking at me warily. "Rose, this is Isabella, Edward's girlfriend, and her friend Angela."

"Interesting," Rosalie stated flatly, giving me the once over.

I gaped at her in shock, looking like a deer caught in headlights. My heart started beating faster in my chest, thinking that she was going to get home that evening and tell her husband and his mother that she had met me.

Not daring to tear my gaze away from hers, I tried to remember what I was wearing, and cursed myself internally for opting for such a casual outfit. Next to her immaculate Stepford wife image, I pretty much looked like a hobo in my jeans and Keds pink sneakers. Not to mention that aside from a bit of mascara, I wasn't even wearing make-up.

_Great,_ I thought to myself angrily, hating how fast and unexpected my intention of making a good impression on Edward's family was going to hell. _Now she's going to brag to everyone how unkept and unworthy of Edward I am._

Swallowing my embarrassment and humiliation at having met her at such an inopportune moment, I tried to smile, but it only came out as a bitter grimace. "Hello."

Rosalie seemed to have picked up on my self-consciousness, the corner of her mouth lifting upwards in a malevolent smirk.

"How do you two know each other?" she addressed Alice.

"We've…" she searched her mind for an appropriate answer, "…met in November, I think."

"You really don't say." Rosalie looked delighted in a vindictive way. "Esme isn't going to be very happy to hear you've kept this from her, Alice."

Alice turned to her with menacing eyes. "You're not going to tell her."

She kept smirking provocatively in return. "Maybe I will, maybe I won't."

"We need to go," Alice said brusquely, turning to me. "Please consider what I've told you, Bella."

"I will," I mumbled, dumbfounded by Rosalie's hostile demeanor. "It was nice seeing you."

"You too." She smiled apologetically before grabbing Rosalie's forearm and pulling her away.

As I stood watching their slim forms depart, a feeling of repressed revolt rocked through me. Maybe Alice's suggestion really was something worth considering. If those people were capable of being the epitome of defiance towards those whom they considered beneath them, I was going to prove that I could very well just return the favor by finally confronting them.

"Who the fuck was that stuck-up bitch?" Angela asked, intense animosity oozing from her voice.

"Edward's sister-in-law." I sighed, shaking my head. "I have a feeling I won't be gaining her on my side anytime soon."

"Man, if that's the family you're going to associate yourself with, I pity you."

"Alice is nice," I said weakly, my previous appetite long perished.

"One person being nice to you isn't enough to be accepted."

I nodded in agreement and we started walking towards the parking garage in silence. Angela seemed to have forgotten about food as well as we walked side by side like two people having a billion things on their minds.

"Do you think I should go to dinner on Saturday?" I eventually confessed my dilemma, putting on my seat belt.

"Yeah. You need to confront those fuckers once and for all. You're strong, you can handle them. Edward is going to be there for you, and so will that Alice chick."

"And Jasper," I added. "At least I hope so."

"Who's Jasper?" she asked, putting the car in reverse.

"He's Alice's boyfriend. Edward's younger brother."

"Well, that's good news, right? You already have people on your side."

"I guess. Anyway…" I shook my head, attempting to shake all thoughts from my mind. "I'll talk to Edward tomorrow."

"Good." She reinforced.

"Better yet," I added quickly, too eager to wait until the next day, "how about you drop me off at his condo?"

"It's late," she argued irritably. "He could be asleep by now."

I glanced at my watch. "It's not even ten. And even if he's asleep, I have a key, remember?"

"How about you take a cab?" she snapped, glaring at me.

"Don't be mean."

"Or how about you ask him to buy you a car? I'm sure a nice Audi wouldn't make a dent in his bank account."

I laughed dryly at her crazy idea. "You're delirious."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are. Shut up and start driving already."

_~~ 0 ~~_

"I couldn't get rid of her," I said apologetically, pointing to Angela as Edward opened the front door to his spacious condo.

He looked half-asleep and a bit confused as he took both of us in. His flannel pants hung low on his hips while his reddish mane was completely plastered to his forehead, a sign of sleeping on his stomach. Glancing at his wrist, he looked for the time but only encountered bare skin instead.

"It's ten fifteen," I clarified, feeling bad that I had woken him up. "Sorry for not announcing that I was coming over."

He waved me off sluggishly, clearing his throat and finding his voice. "Come on in."

"I thought it was time I saw where you lived," Angela commented nonchalantly as we began removing our shoes and jackets. "Plus, your _girlfriend_ made me drop her off here instead of going home with me."

"Sorry," I apologized again, scowling at her.

"Don't worry. I'm used to her by now," Edward teased, reaching for my waist and pulling me to his chest. His head dipped down and he placed a kiss against my lips. "Hi."

"Hi." I smiled, melting into his embrace. A whiff of aftershave caught my nose, and I nuzzled his smooth cheek affectionately. "You smell nice."

"I took a shower earlier," he said with a grin, kissing me again.

"Mmmm," I hummed into his mouth appreciatively.

"Ugh. This is sickening," Angela complained from somewhere behind me. "I should've just gone home."

"Yeah, you should've," I retorted with a mumble, keeping my mouth glued to Edward's as my arms wrapped around his broad back.

She sighed exaggeratedly, displeased with the fact that we were practically ignoring her. "You got anything to drink, Edward? I'm thirsty."

"Kitchen," he said in between kisses, "first door on the right."

"Gee, thanks for the overwhelming hospitality."

He chuckled, finally pulling away to look at her over my head. "I'm busy as you can see. You're a big girl, and I'm sure you can find the kitchen on your own."

"Whatever." She turned on her heels. "I'll help myself. You two go back to sucking faces."

"I missed you," I said, gazing up at him, my palms running up and down his sides.

"You too." He pressed his lips against mine a few more times, and I grinned widely at his display of affection. "Why did Angela come up?"

"To piss me off I guess."

"I like her, but I want you all to myself right now," he said, pulling me even closer if that was possible. "I was dreaming about you."

"You were?" I asked, surprised and delighted at the same time.

"Yes," he whispered, his nose running across my cheek and down my jaw until it reached my neck.

"What was I doing in your dream?" I breathed, knowing his answer was going to set me on fire.

He dragged his lusty eyes to mine. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yeah."

His lips parted, letting loose words that had a visible effect on me. "You were riding me in my bed."

"Edward," I moaned quietly, my hands sliding down to squeeze his firm posterior as my mouth found his yet again.

"My beautiful girl," he moaned back, running his fingers through my hair. "I love you. I'm sorry I forgot to call you as soon as I got home. I lay down after my shower and fell asleep."

"It's okay," I assured, wishing we were alone so I could molest him. Unfortunately, Angela didn't plan on leaving too soon, so I had to settle for just a few gropes and indecent touches. "I love you."

Just then, the major pain in my ass passed by us holding a glass of what looked to be orange juice and a homemade cookie. She rolled her eyes at having found us in the same spot she had left us and continued walking, heading towards the living room.

Sometime later, just as we were preparing to leave, Angela went to the bathroom, and I took the opportunity to speak to Edward.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," I said, turning to face him on the couch.

"Tell me."

"How would you feel if I said I wanted to join the family dinner on Saturday?"

His brow furrowed as he regarded me analytically. "Are you serious about this?"

I nodded, wringing my hands nervously in my lap.

"If that's what you want…" he trailed off, sounding uncertain.

Not wanting to omit anything, I went on. "I ran into Alice today at the mall. She was with Rosalie. I don't want to risk running into your mother in the same incidental way. The chances of that happening are pretty slim since we obviously don't frequent the same places, but still…"

Edward was silent for a long moment. I could swear I was able to hear the wheels turning in his head as he considered what I'd just said.

"What do you think about it?" I asked softly when I couldn't take his silence anymore.

He shrugged one shoulder, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging on it. "I think it's up to you. If you're ready…"

"I'm ready," I said, trying to sound as confident as I could. "I want to meet your mother."

Although on the outside I was putting up a brave front, on the inside I was scared shitless. The fear of that terrible woman had irrevocably squeezed its way into my heart and an obsessive prayer was repeating into my mind incessantly.

_God help me._

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><p><strong>AN Loved it? Hated it? Let me know.**

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**~ Andreea ~**


	18. Chapter 17: Desolated

**A/N Thank you guys so much for reviewing the last chapter! I was blown away by the response, although I know most of you just wanted the teaser… lol**

**There are pictures of the Cullen Mansion on my profile along with TPB's official banner and Bella's outfit for this chapter.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 17<strong>

**Edward POV**

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><p><em>~ April 4<em>_th__, 2012 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

As Isabella and Angela stepped into the elevator, I closed the front door and headed into the kitchen for a glass of water. My throat suddenly felt parched for some reason while the t-shirt I had on felt like a heavy parka worn on a hot summer afternoon. Grabbing a tall glass from one of the cabinets, I poured tap water into it, adding a few ice cubes. I leaned against the counter and downed it all in one breath, reaching to the sink for another one.

As I took small sips from my second glass, I tried to wrap my mind around what Isabella had said before leaving. She wanted to meet my mother, and she seemed pretty damn sure about it. Just a few weeks before, she had confessed that she wasn't sure she was ever going to be ready to take that step. Now, all of a sudden her attitude had taken a one hundred eighty degree turn. I wasn't sure whether it was due to her running into Rosalie or to some unknown factor, but she had made it clear that she wanted to join the family dinner that upcoming Saturday.

And that was fine by me. I had assured her that we were going to do things at her pace, and I intended to keep my word. However, I hadn't expected her to change her mind so unexpectedly. I suspected that her hasty decision had been triggered by something that had happened during her encounter with Rosalie, but I had chosen not to insist on the subject, because it wasn't that important.

What had me worried was Isabella's vulnerability. Generally speaking, she was a strong woman; no one who knew her could deny that. But faced with my mother's acidic personality and biting remarks veiled by apparent politeness, I was afraid that she was going to loose the necessary strength to put up with her. Knowing my mother, she was going to detect Isabella's weak points and take advantage of that without any trace of remorse whatsoever. She was going to hit her with calculated comment after comment until she was down, and even then, she was going to continue by kicking her until she was unable to get up again.

My mother had always been fiercely protective of her family, which led to her sick need for control over everyone's lives. For over twenty years, I had tried to cope with the fact that she was never going to change, and I had in part succeeded. But for an outsider such as Isabella, the impact of her offensive behavior was going to prove devastating.

However, attempting to keep her away from my family was like trying to avoid the inevitable. No matter what we did, sooner or later it was going to happen whether we wanted or not. Our relationship was developing at galloping speed, and it was better to let things follow their natural course rather than cross them. My job was to let Isabella know what she was in for and back her up when she needed me. We had to face the common enemy together, not only to win the first crucial battle, but also to extend our relationship's endurance to future obstacles.

As for Emmett, I actually wasn't worried at all. His bark was worse than his bite. He may have inherited his irritability and quick-to-judge attitude from my mother, but reason was the best thing Dad had passed on to him. Once he realized that Isabella wasn't half as bad as he had initially thought, I was sure that he was going to back down.

I tossed the rest of my water into the sink and turned on my heels, heading back to the bedroom. I pulled my t-shirt over my head and let it fall to the floor then slid under the covers. As I lay there with my arms folded underneath the pillow, I tried to come up with a plan for that dreaded dinner.

An hour later, I was still awake and without a plan or even a hint of strategy. Expressing my frustration through a loud sigh, I closed my eyes and waited for sleep to come. Quoting a famous movie character, I told myself that _I'll think about it tomorrow_.

_~~ 0 ~~_

The next day during lunch break, I called my mother.

"Edward dear," she drawled, sounding genuinely happy. "What a pleasant surprise."

"Hey, Mom," I greeted unenthusiastically, pushing my half-eaten sandwich to the side.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected call? I thought you forgot that you actually still have a mother."

I sighed heavily, not in the mood to be reprimanded. Between work and the stress of the upcoming family dinner, my tolerance was extremely low.

Deciding to ignore her scolding tone, I went on. "What would you say if I told you that I want to join the family dinner this Saturday?"

"I would say that I'm extremely pleased." I could hear the smile in her voice. "I haven't seen you since you got back from Europe."

Indeed. Although I had promised to visit her as soon as I returned to the US, I simply hadn't had the time. Or desire.

"You'll see me Saturday," I assured, reaching for my still steaming coffee and taking a sip.

"But?" she asked suspiciously, sensing there was something more.

"I'm bringing Isabella with me," I said firmly, letting her know there would be no arguing about it.

"I see," she replied after a brief pause. "Has she finally decided to stop hiding behind your back?"

Closing my eyes for a second, I willed myself not to snap at her rudely.

"Mother," I started in an almost pleading tone, "you have to promise me that you'll at least give her a chance to prove that she's worthy of your precious son. Money isn't everything. She's a woman with character. She beautiful, intelligent, a great cook and has a big heart. Those qualities are much more important than wealth and social status."

My plea was met with deafening silence.

"We'll see," she said eventually.

I wasn't one hundred per cent pleased with her vague answer, but I let it go. "Fine. What hour should we be there?"

"Let's say eight. I'll let everyone know that we're going to have a special guest that evening."

"Alright." I nodded to myself, feeling like a small weight had been lifted off my chest. She had taken the news with more diplomacy than I had expected. I only hoped that she was going to be at least as discreet when the right time came. "Thanks."

"I'll see you soon," she said sweetly, and with that the line went dead.

_~~ 0 ~~_

The following days passed at the speed of light. The dreaded and at the same time anticipated Saturday arrived, bringing with it a deep, gut wrenching nervousness that I hadn't experienced since the day I got married, many years back. The only difference was that while the wedding-related emotions had been constructive, these ones had the potential of being destructive.

I parked the car in front of Isabella's apartment building and pulled out my phone, searching through my contact list for her number.

"Yeah?" she picked up on the second ring.

"Are you ready?"

"Uh… not quite," she hesitated. "Angela isn't done fixing my hair yet. Where are you?"

"I'm parked in front of your building."

There was shuffling in the background, a muttered curse probably coming from Angela, and then Isabella added, "We still have another half an hour until we have to be there. Why don't you come up?"

"Alright," I agreed. "I'll be there in a minute."

I got out of the car and made my way inside, heading for the elevator. When I reached the fifth floor, I let myself into the apartment. There was soft music coming from Isabella's bedroom, and I removed my dress shoes and tweed jacket, walking down the narrow hallway until I was standing in front of the open door.

"Good evening," I greeted, smiling at the sight of Isabella.

She was wearing an all too familiar wool-crepe shift dress in a brick red color. It had an asymmetric draped neckline, long sleeves, a pleat in the front, a gray grosgrain belt at the waist and a gray satin-trimmed exposed zip fastening through the back. Her feet were concealed by a pair of gray suede shoes with a patent-leather toe that must have been over five inches tall.

The day before, seeing how stressed she was over her outfit for today's dinner, I had offered to take her shopping. She had refused initially, but after raiding both her closet and Angela's, she had decided to accept. After hours of dragging me through a thousand boutiques and shops, she had finally settled on the Victoria Beckham dress she now had on. Even though she loved it, she had been worried about the color, thinking my mother might find it inappropriate. Bewildered by the negative effects her fear of my mother was having on her rationale, I had tried my best to assure her that the dress wasn't only extremely decent but also very tastefully chosen. It fitted her curves perfectly without being too tight or revealing.

She was sitting on the bed while Angela was standing in front of her, putting the final touches to a French twist. Getting closer to take a seat in Isabella's desk chair, I noticed that she was wearing black eyeliner and a nice shade of lipstick that matched her dress. She looked absolutely stunning, and I felt my heart swell with pride and adoration. She was the most beautiful woman in the world.

"Hey," they both murmured in unison, and Isabella returned a shy smile of her own.

"You look lovely," I complimented, my eyes taking her in hungrily.

She blushed. "Thanks. You do, too."

Her hands' movement caught my attention, and glancing down, I saw that she was wringing them in her lap frantically.

"I swear to God I'm as nervous as she is," Angela confessed somberly, a frown making its way to her forehead. After a moment, her eyes rose up to meet mine. "And if you feed her to the wolves, I'm going to personally kick your ass."

"What the hell, Angela?" Isabella tried to sound indignant, but her voice came out as meek and feeble.

"I'll take care of her," I assured Angela firmly, a bit offended that she thought I was going to leave Isabella to fend for herself around strangers.

She didn't seem that convinced, but went back to her task of fixing Isabella's hair, remaining silent until we were ready to leave.

"I'm sorry for what Angela said earlier," Isabella apologized when we stepped into the elevator.

I sighed, irritated. "Stop apologizing for her. You always do that."

She stared at me in confusion. In her new heels, we were almost at eye level. "Are you mad at me or something?"

I could detect a hint of hurt in her voice, and I turned to face her. "No. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. I'm just tense."

"You know, you're supposed to be the one comforting me, not the other way around," she said bitterly, and for the first time that evening, I felt like a jackass.

"You're right," I said, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her slim body to my chest. "Forgive me, but my mother tends to bring the worst out of me. Everything is going to be okay."

"You don't sound so certain," she noticed, placing her hands on my biceps.

"Well, she is unpredictable, so I can't know for sure, but there is a fifty per cent chance that she'll be nice."

She shook her head, lowering her gaze to our flushed chests. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"I don't know what else to say," I admitted, lifting her chin and kissing her lips softly. "I don't want to lie to you, nor do I want to sugar coat it."

She nodded resignedly, kissing me back. "I can't wait for this dinner to be over. I've been stressing over it since I woke up this morning."

"You'll do great. Besides, I am positive my father is going to love you."

She let out a deep breath. "Let's hope so."

_~~ 0 ~~_

It was a chilly spring evening in Chicago. As I helped Isabella out of the car, I glanced up towards the starry black sky and inhaled the cold air greedily.

This was it. We were here, and there was no turning back. We had to step into the silent, brightly illuminated mansion from across the large driveway and confront those who were without a doubt waiting for us.

Emmett's Mercedes was already there, parked next to Dad's Bentley, but there was no sign of my younger brother's car or his girlfriend's. Isabella seemed to have noticed this as well, because her eyes swept her surroundings with an air of panic. She knew from one of our previous conversations that Jasper owned a sports car, so one of the two luxury cars could only have been Emmett's. As realization hit her, I saw her swallow thickly, and I squeezed her fingers in what I hoped to be a comforting manner.

She sighed, letting her eyes close for a split second before taking a tentative step ahead. I followed, and we were soon making our way up the front steps. As we reached the front door, I rang the doorbell, and before I had time to retreat my arm completely, the tall silhouette of Miriam greeted us.

"Sir." She smiled welcomingly, making room for us to pass by her. "Miss."

"Hello, Miriam," I said somberly, helping Isabella remove her trench coat. "Are Jasper and Alice here yet? I didn't see any of their cars outside."

"Yes, they are," she replied, and I looked up at her in surprise. "Actually, everyone is here. They are waiting for you."

Seeing the confused look Isabella was giving me, she added conspiratorially, "I think they took a cab. Ms. Brandon casually commented something about drinking themselves into a stupor."

"Thank you, Miriam," I said, handing her both our coats.

Realizing she might have just committed an indiscretion, she took them with a firm nod, her expression hardening as she departed with hurried steps. Even the maids were terrorized by Esme Cullen.

I turned towards Isabella. "Ready?"

She was now staring at the imposing pristine foyer with her mouth agape. Having lived there half of my life, I was used to the opulence, but to a first time visitor, especially a modest one, the entire experience might have been a bit overwhelming. My mother had expensive taste, a fact that was confirmed by every inch of the enormous place she called home.

"No," she muttered, a frown overtaking her features. "Let's go back to your place. We'll cuddle in bed and read or something."

"We can do that later. Keep your chin up and don't let them intimidate you," I encouraged, brushing my lips against hers. "I love you."

She sighed resignedly. "I love you, too."

Taking her hand in mine, I lead her towards the living area. Mom and Rosalie, who up until that moment had been conversing animatedly, stopped abruptly as their eyes landed on us. Every single head turned in our direction, the room growing so silent I could hear my own breathing.

Everything after that seemed to happen in slow motion. With the perspicacity of a man preparing for a tormenting battle with his kin, I observed each expression aimed at the woman clutching my fingers with incredible force. If I hadn't been so focused on deciphering the meaning of those expressions, I would have probably screamed in pain.

My father, who stood in his usual spot by the fireplace smoking a cigar, was looking at Isabella with curiosity mixed with something akin to contentment. His blond hair, which he had so graciously passed on to Jasper, was slacked back, a few rebelled gray strands standing out in the strong light coming from the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. He was dressed casually in cream, almost white khaki pants, paired with a brown leather belt, a white button down shirt and a bamboo green sweater, which denoted his laid-back attitude towards tonight's dinner.

Inches away from him, Emmett was sitting in a plush armchair, enjoying a glass of whiskey. He was wearing his glasses like he always did when dealing with business, which I suppose was the way he viewed the entire event. He had to figure out if Isabella was a good investment for the entire family, or not. Simple as that.

His left hand rose up to run through his dark brown locks, a habit we both shared. While Jasper and I had gotten our mild facial features and lean body shape from my father, he had inherited our grandfather's from my mother's side. Much like Emmet, Lucan Evenson Sr. had been a large man with a prominent square jaw, an unpredictable character and an obsessive hunger for success.

If Isabella considered me a workaholic it was because she hadn't met Emmett yet.

For obvious reasons, he had been Lucan's favorite grandchild who had loved him even more than his own son. Ciprian, Mom's younger brother, had the misfortune of dying at the age thirty-two in a plane crash.

I had always suspected that my mother's preference for my older brother was due to his striking resemblance to her father whom she had adored.

Emmett studied Isabella, his criticizing scrutiny never leaving her face. Knowing him, he was more than likely trying to figure out whether his preconceptions about her were justifiable or not. Opposite of him, on a large ottoman, his daughter was sitting cross-legged, her chin resting in her palm. As expected, she was excited to see Isabella, a wide smile wiping the scowl she had been sporting only seconds prior.

Alice and Jasper were seated on the nearby couch while Mom and Rosalie were occupying the one closest to the French doors leading to the back patio. Alice looked like she had started drinking early, the glass of wine she was holding and her rosy cheeks betraying a substantial amount of alcohol ingested. Her hand rested on Jasper's knee, who's agonizingly bored expression alerted me we were in for a long night.

Rosalie was gawking at Isabella, her mouth set into a thin line. She didn't show any signs of recognition, which was strange. If there was a characteristic which could have been attributed to her, it was definitely straightforwardness. She didn't hide behind her finger, which was why I had a hard time figuring out what she was playing at. Maybe she was attempting to hide the fact that she and Isabella had met before. Who knew?

Finally, I braced myself and looked at my mother, expecting to see disapproval written all over her face. However, to my utter bewilderment, there was nothing. Not even a trace of emotion. No disapproval, no anger, no irritation, no frustration, no curiosity, no resignation; nothing. Her face was completely blank, causing an icy shiver to run down my spine. Either she was plotting something, or she was about to have a heart-attack. Since her health was pretty much comparable to steel, I leaned towards the first option.

"Good evening," I spoke first.

"Good evening," Isabella repeated, doing her best to sound confidant.

A collective murmur was their reply. Instead, Jessica jumped to her feet, hurrying over to us.

"Bella!" she exclaimed, enveloping her into a hug.

My mother's fugitive grimace caught my attention, causing me to shake my head at her in disapprobation. And just like that, she was back.

"Hi, Jess," Isabella said in a gentle voice, returning the hug warmly.

"You look so pretty," Jessica noticed, touching one of the long sleeves to feel the fabric of the dress.

"Thank you." Isabella blushed. "Same goes for you."

I cleared my throat. "Everyone, this is Isabella Swan, my girlfriend. Isabella, let me introduce you to my father, Carlisle," I said motioning to him. "My mother, Esme." I did the same gesture with my hand for each of them. "My brother Emmett and his wife Rosalie. And you know the rest."

Isabella nodded consciously, taking them in. "It's a pleasure to meet you all."

Dad smiled, exhaling a thick cloud of strongly scented smoke. "Isabella, welcome to our home. We are glad to have you here."

"Thank you, sir," she responded, offering him a smile of her own.

Mom rose to her feet then, making sure to smooth down the creases in her A-line skirt. "Since everyone is here, we can step into the dining room," she said flatly, starting to walk in that direction without another word.

They all got up, following after her silently. I grabbed Isabella's hand again, just as Alice approached us. Leaning towards Isabella, she whispered loudly enough for me to hear, "Good luck. You're going to need it."

I threw her a warning glare, but she just waved me off, patting Isabella's forearm encouragingly. Although I knew Alice's intentions were good, she was only scaring her with that type of comment.

As we entered the dining room and my gaze fell on the formal place setting, I immediately understood where my mother planned on taking the whole event. Aside from the flower arrangements and arm candelabras adorning the white tablecloth, I also noticed the escargot tongs and forks along with hand-lettered place cards. A full twelve course dinner awaited us, including caviar, escargot, seafood cocktail, soup, fish, lobster, entrée, palate cleanser, main course, salad, dessert and coffee or tea.

"What is this?" I asked incredulously, throwing my mother a sharp look. "Are we having the president over for dinner, and I didn't know about it?"

The right corner of her mouth lifted up into a self-content smirk. "Don't be silly. I simply wanted to have a more varied menu for this special occasion." Then she turned to Isabella, making sure to accentuate her words. "You do like escargot, Isabella, I hope?"

Isabella seemed at a loss of how to respond. "Um… I've never actually had it," she admitted shyly, proceeding to bite on her lower lip.

"Hmmm," Mother hummed, looking back at me with an arched eyebrow as if to say, "first step towards making my point completed". She sat down at one end of the table, grabbed a small crystal bell placed beside her plates and rang it.

Each one of us occupied their assigned places, and I couldn't help but notice that she had sat Isabella directly to her left, as far away from Dad and Jessica as possible.

Smart.

Or should I rather say, devious?

I had to hand it to her; she was nothing but resourceful.

Seconds later, Miriam showed up wearing an apron over her uniform. "Yes, ma'am?"

"You can start serving dinner."

"Certainly." She nodded, turning around and exiting the room as quickly as she had entered. She came back a minute later accompanied by Anna, the other maid, both carrying large silver trays with the hors d'oeuvres. From what I was able to see, they were serving three types of caviar, the tin cans resting in silver cups filled with shaved ice. Along with it came the usual crackers set on a plateau next to each can.

"You don't have to eat it if you don't like it," I whispered in Isabella's ear, placing my hand on her knee under the table. "Same goes for the snails."

"I know," she murmured, reaching for the mother-of-pearl spoon. As she brought the cracker to her lips, I saw Mom watching her intently.

"How's the caviar, Isabella?"

"It's delicious," Isabella answered after swallowing everything in her mouth, sketching a forced smile. I knew she wasn't a big fan of fish, and its eggs were obviously not going to change her taste in food. I only hoped that she wasn't going to eat more than she could take out of politeness.

"I'm sure it is," my mother stated, her tone almost deriding. "But, do tell us about yourself. Where are you from?"

After taking a second bite, Isabella put down the fragile spoon, wiping her mouth delicately with her napkin. "Well, I'm originally from Forks, Washington. My…"

"Forks, you say?" Mother interrupted rudely, sipping on her dry white wine. "I never heard of it."

"It's a really small town."

"What made you come to Chicago?"

"My aunt lives here. My parents died a few years ago, and since I don't have any other relatives, she took me under her wing, so to speak."

"So, you're an orphan," she stated just as rudely, and I had a hard time believing she could be so insensitive.

"Yes," Isabella affirmed quietly, reaching for her own glass of wine.

"I see. I hear you're studying to be a journalist."

At this, Isabella's face lit up. She loved talking about school and her future career. "Yes, I've wanted to be a journalist since I can remember."

"It's a good profession." Dad nodded approvingly.

Mom huffed, her lips puckering. "What's so good about it? Most journalists are disgusting leeches who write gossip columns."

"That's a wrong conception, and you know it, Esme," Dad said gently, but there was an edge to his voice. "Being a lawyer isn't exactly the most honorable of professions either, and you still married me."

"That's different," she replied curtly, averting her eyes from his to Isabella's and continuing her interrogation. "Where do you go to school?"

"I'm attending Columbia College."

"Why not the University of Chicago? If you're as intelligent as Edward says, you should have gotten in effortlessly."

"Her choice of college is none of your business, Mother," I snapped irritated, already getting fed up with her behavior.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm just curious as to why she chose such a mediocre one."

"I chose Columbia College because my mother attended it before me," Isabella answered, staring down at her plate. I could tell she was getting uncomfortable.

"And what did your mother do?"

Isabella sighed, understanding where all this was going. Taking another sip of wine, she murmured, "She was a stay at home mom."

"There you have it." Mother gestured towards her triumphantly. "A mediocre education leads to a mediocre life."

"That's enough," I hissed, feeling my blood boiling in my veins. "Just because you went to Harvard doesn't mean everyone has to. And if I remember correctly, you didn't start working until I was fifteen. "

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Yes, because I focused all of my energy on raising three ungrateful children. Then I started my own charitable organization."

Dad cleared his throat, but Mom ignored him, choosing to continue bombing Isabella with questions. "How do you support yourself? I assume you have a job."

"I work part time at my aunt's bookstore."

"You sell books," she stated, getting more worked up with each answer she received.

"Yes," Isabella confirmed warily.

"Is something wrong with selling books, Esme?" Dad asked.

"You tell me. Is it?"

"Of course it's not. She should be proud of the fact that she manages to survive on her own. What do you think Edward or any other of your sons would have done if they didn't have our financial support during their college years? They would have been obligated to work as well."

"That's what Dad always points out to me," Alice piped in, attracting everyone's attention and the unwanted glare of my mother.

Dad turned to her. "Wouldn't you say that he's right?"

"Oh, he definitely is. I admire Bella for being so strong and independent."

That seemed to shut my mother up. But before I could let out a sigh of relief, Rosalie picked up the slack.

"Interesting dress you have on, _Bella_," she said, accentuating her name. "Is it by any chance Victoria Beckham?"

"Yes, it is."

She smirked, sensing the opportunity of a new attack. "And you were able to afford it from your modest part-time salary? It costs over three thousand dollars."

"I purchased it for her," I replied sharply, not getting what the hell was wrong with her. Rosalie was a good person, and it surprised me to see the same ugly behavior my mother was displaying reflected on her.

"Along with the Yves Saint Laurent shoes I presume."

"You presume right. Aren't I allowed to spoil my lover?"

Mom interfered immediately. "Since she's so financially independent, I thought she was above spending _your _money on expensive clothes."

"It's _my_ money as you like to emphasize, and she can dispose of it anytime she wants."

"Aren't you generous?" she said, sarcasm dripping from every word like venom.

"I am generous towards those who deserve it," I shot back, throwing my napkin on my plate roughly. Any trace of appetite vanished completely, both my stomach and heart revolting against the malicious woman sitting a few feet away.

She gave Isabella the once over, not bothering to hide her disgust. "I'm sure she gained her right to your abundant generosity."

Miriam made yet another appearance then, stopping me from giving her a piece of my mind. "May I serve the escargot?"

Mother waved her off dismissively. "You may."

Full of rage, I clenched my hands into fists on each side of my plate, willing myself to calm down. Isabella noticed and placed her warm hand on top of mine, causing me to link our fingers together.

"It's interesting how we've already spent twenty minutes at this table and no one has approached the subject of their age difference yet," Emmett spoke for the first time, his stare fixed on our joined hands. "Tell me, Isabella aka Bella; don't you think you're a bit young for him? He wants a family of his own. Are you ready to give him that?"

"I know Edward wants children; we already discussed that. Maybe someday-"

"Maybe someday?" he cut her off. "As in you're not sure you want the same thing? And I couldn't blame you since you're still too young and focused on your future career to be having such plans. But think about it this way: are you being fair to him?"

Isabella's expression darkened. "I'm not forcing him to be with me," she retorted, her voice giving out a slight tremble.

"Is this your attempt at defending yourself?" he said, declining the escargot Anna was about to set in front of him. "Because it's not working."

"Emmett, my romantic life it's none of your damn business," I spat, enraged. "I never interfered between you and Rosalie, did I?"

"I just think this relationship is a waste of time and sentiments. It's not going to last. You're too different and you obviously don't want the same things."

"You don't know anything about her, so you'd better keep your mouth shut. Our relationship is going great, and who knows, maybe soon we'll be moving in together."

Mom's fork hitting the table was enough to let me know that I had spoken without thinking about the consequences.

_~~ 0 ~~_

I sat at the dining table surrounded by my family and took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a split second. The atmosphere was so tense, and the room was so eerily quiet, you could literally hear the proverbial pin drop.

My older brother's head was lowered, his eyes trained on the pristine white tablecloth, and his large hands folded neatly in front of him. Next to him, his wife's perfectly plucked right eyebrow was arched in a defiant manner, her scarlet, lipstick-coated, plump lips set into a straight line as her freezing, ice blue glare pinned me to my chair.

I let my gaze travel towards my younger brother, seeking for support. To my relief, I was not met with disapproval. On the contrary. Even though his face showed no sign of emotion, the mischievous, impish twinkle in his eyes let me know he was taking the news much better than the rest of the family. _He_ was actually happy for me. His girlfriend was smiling hugely for some reason, and I found myself responding with a shy smile of my own.

That's until I met my mother's fierce, dark stare. There was so much hostility and anger directed at the woman sitting next to me that I actually felt my heart starting to beat faster in my chest.

I reached under the table and took her delicate hand in mine, linking our fingers together once again. Her entire body was trembling, and I knew her well enough to realize she was on the verge of crying. I wanted to rush to my feet, scoop her up into my arms protectively and leave this goddamn house. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her. I wanted to assure her that nothing and no one was going to stand in the way of our happiness. I wanted to promise her a better, brighter future.

I did none of that. I just sat there and allowed these people who rightfully called themselves blood of my blood to ridicule her. And it made me realize... I was acting even worse and more disgraceful than all of them combined.

_How did I get here?_

_How did_we_get here?_

These were the two questions relentlessly plaguing my mind.

Finally, I let myself look at my father; the man who had always been there for me since the very day I was born.

A single, short nod of his head spoke more than a thousand words.

He was still there for me.

"Now, now, Edward," Mom sounded panicked. "You don't have to make such rushed decisions without thinking them through first."

"Don't worry, mother," I said confidently. "I've been thinking it through quite a lot lately."

And indeed, it had been an idea for a while. The only reason I hadn't confessed my thoughts to Isabella was because I was unsure of how she was going to take it.

"I love Isabella. Don't you want me to be happy?"

"Of course I do," she said, her face pale as she toyed with her wedding band. "But I don't think you know what's good for you. She's got you blinded-"

"Esme, that's enough, already," my father interrupted, his voice glacial. "Can't we enjoy dinner in this family without unnecessary drama? Edward is a grown man and he knows better than any of us what's good for him. Leave him alone. And try to be nice to this poor girl. What is your goal exactly? Traumatizing her for life and making sure she never sets foot in this house again? Do that and you'll not only push her away but also your son."

Mom glared at him like she was ready to commit murder, her manicured nails digging hard into the skin of her palm. Now she was truly furious.

_~~ 0 ~~_

Two hours later, we were more than ready to leave. The rest of the dinner had been tense, and I wanted to go home and be as far away from these people as possible. Although, after my father's little speech no one but Jessica had dared addressing Isabella anymore, she had to endure Mother's dirty looks for the remainder of the evening. Now, everyone had moved into the living room again to chat, but I couldn't stand being there anymore. If it weren't for Jessica, I probably would have left as soon as first course was over; I was so overwrought.

Nature was calling, so I left Isabella in Alice's reliable company before hurrying down the foyer towards the downstairs bathroom. I took care of my needs as fast as I could, knowing she was too distressed to be there another minute. When I came back, Alice was perched up on Jasper's lap and she looked to be whispering something in his ear. Isabella, on the other hand, was nowhere in sight.

"Where's Isabella?" I demanded, my gaze darting around nervously. Dad and Emmett were deep in conversation, oblivious to everything around them, while Rosalie and Jessica were savoring chocolates from a pink box.

"Mom wanted to talk to her privately," Jasper answered apprehensively.

"Where did they go?"

"They went to Dad's study."

Spinning on my heels, I headed in that direction with large deliberate steps. As I got closer to the open door, I could hear fragments of their discussion.

"… so against me," Isabella was saying, her tone pleading. "I didn't do anything wrong."

"Your presence in my son's life is enough to make me abhor you," Mother replied harshly, and without even realizing I was doing it, I stopped to listen.

"You don't even know me."

My mother let out a low laugh. "What makes you think I want to know you? Can't you see that you're no good for him? He needs a powerful woman at his side, not a girl who's struggling with monthly bills."

Isabella sniffed, and my skin broke into a million goose bumps at the sound. "How can you be so unjust and callous?"

"I think the word you're looking for is pragmatic, _my dear_. I want the best for my son, and you're obviously not it," was the unsympathetic reply she got. "I'm only going to say this to you once. Take it like a warning if you will. Stay away from him, or I'll make you regret it."

My feet started moving again, this time on their accord as I rushed inside. "Isabella, we have to go," I said, holding my hand outstretched.

She stood there for a moment as if immobilized. Then she ducked by me, her head lowered and her hand pressed to her chest.

My mother was staring past my shoulder impassively.

"Threaten her again, and _I'll _make _you_ regret it," I gritted through clenched teeth, pointing my forefinger towards her face menacingly.

"Edward, wait!" she called after me as I hurried to catch up to Isabella.

The front door was widely opened, and I jogged outside, spotting her leaning on her side against my car. She was crying with her arms wrapped around her protectively, and I cursed loudly, making my way to her. I tried to hug her, but she took a step back, shaking her head.

I tried not to feel offended and hurt by her withdrawal, knowing she had a good reason for acting like that. However, that didn't stop the rhythmic spasms of my heart, which seemed bent of tearing its way out through my chest.

Resignedly, I unlocked the car, holding the door open for her to get in. The ride to my condo was quiet, a few sobs coming from her resonating in my ears from time to time with the explosive impact of a heavy rock hitting water.

As soon as I parked the BMW in its spot and killed the engine, she bolted out and headed for the main lobby without waiting for me. I picked up the abandoned clutch from the passenger seat and followed after her, not having the strength to reply to Peter's joyful greeting.

I was miserable. I was angry at the world, at god, and mostly at myself.

Once upstairs, she tossed her pumps to the side carelessly. She walked over to the living room and sat on the edge of the couch with her arms dangling at her sides limply. I had no clue what to do or what to say, so I stood in front of the windows with my arms crossed over my chest. Below me the city was buzzing with life, but on the inside I felt dead. And it was all because of the woman who had given birth to me. She was selfish, manipulating, spiteful and unworthy of the love and respect I still had for her.

Sometime later, I turned to face Isabella only to find her in the exact same position as before.

"You need to give her more time," I started hesitantly, tugging at my hair so hard that I was afraid I was going to rip it out.

"She's never going to accept me!" she suddenly yelled, jumping to her feet and starting to pace the room frantically. "She's the most horrible person I've ever encountered. I have _never_ felt more humiliated in my life," her voice cracked as she said the last words, and my heart couldn't take it.

"Isabella, please," I begged, hurrying to her side. I tried to wrap my arms around her, but she pushed me away violently.

"Don't touch me!" she cried out, running towards the bathroom and slamming the door behind her.

I stood there dumbfounded, blankly watching the spot she had just vacated. When I could finally move again and rapped my knuckles against the polished wood, there was no answer. I tried twisting the knob only to find it locked.

"Isabella, baby, please open the door," I implored, resting my forehead against the door. "Please."

"I need some time alone," came her hoarse, distant reply.

Letting out a staggered breath, I slowly slid down until I was sitting with my elbows resting on my knees. I closed my eyes and ran my palms over my face, into my hair and settling at the back of my neck.

She was refusing to talk to me.

This was certainly a first.

From a happy couple, this day had rendered us to almost strangers. A wave of despair washed over me, because I loved her and the distance she put between us was killing me.

Yes, I loved her. I loved her so much, it was scary how quickly and how intensely I had gotten attached to her.

I wanted the warmth of my body to be the one comforting her, not the cold tile floor or the even worse, the toilet seat. I wanted to tell her how much she meant to me and how I would have given anything to wipe that night's memory from her mind forever. She was too good of a person to deserve all the bullshit she had been subjected to, and I swore to myself never to allow Mother any type of interaction with her again. Her only goal was to break us apart, and I couldn't let that happen.

I checked my watch from five to five minutes, and by the time an hour had passed, I felt the urge to rip my hair out in frustration.

It seemed like my mother had gotten what she wanted after all.

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><p><strong>AN Thanks for reading and make sure to check out the group on Facebook where I always post the teasers for this story.**

**~ Andreea ~**


	19. Chapter 18: Sensitive

**A/N Regarding the previous chapter, I only have one thing to say. I know most of you are frustrated with Edward, but no matter how horrible Emmett, Esme and Rosalie have been to Bella, they are still his family and it's not easy for him to separate from. A few of you know what I'm talking about, since you've been going through the same thing with your husbands' families.**

**Oh, and in case you have forgotten, Edward **_**still**_** has quite the temper on him. I'm just reminding you so the second half of this chapter doesn't take you by surprise.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><em>~~ April 8<em>_th__, 2012 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

I sat on the toilet seat with my face buried in my palms as I cried out my frustration and humiliation.

I was angry; angrier than I had been in a long time. I was mad at Esme, at Emmett, at Rosalie, at Edward, but mostly, I was mad at myself.

I had always considered myself a strong person who didn't take crap from anyone. If I was being attacked, I struck back without thinking twice. However, tonight, my behavior had proven the contrary. As the minutes sluggishly dragged by, I was reminded of how weak and absolutely pathetic I had been during the three hours spent at the Cullen's.

I was utterly disgusted with myself.

I had let those people mock me in the cruelest of ways. I just took a seat back, allowing them to trample my self-respect with the heavy, unmerciful boots of their vanity. Esme had practically called me a worthless orphan, while Rosalie hadn't missed the opportunity of implying that I was only after Edward's money. Instead of defending myself, I had kept my mouth shut, too baffled and perturbed for a witty come back.

That was what bothered me the most; the fact that I had looked feeble in their eyes, which was probably the main reason they had dared behaving so obnoxiously rude in the first place. If I had stood my ground, maybe the outcome would have been different.

On the other hand, Edward's attitude during dinner had me completely discombobulated. To be honest, I had expected him to stand up for me more firmly. Aside from a few frail attempts at parrying his family's offensive remarks, he had been pretty much as passive as I had. I was completely furious. Not at him exactly, but at my own persona. It infuriated me that I had gone to that dinner like an innocent white lamb, expecting Edward to jump to my aid and protect me from the big bad wolf.

It's not like he hadn't warned me about what I was in for. I should have been prepared for a gory confrontation; instead, I had strolled into that house as serene and full of world peace dreams as a hippie from the mid 60's. It had been stupid and fantasist of me to think that Edward was going to suddenly transform into some modern version of Prince Charming and slay the dragon, aka his mother.

I was no damsel in distress. I was Isabella Swan, daughter of Charlie Swan, chief of police. I could take care of myself. My father had taught me the most effective self-defense techniques. Heck, I even knew how to use a shotgun.

Of course, I could neither shoot Esme nor beat her to death, but Dad had also taught me to speak up for myself and never let others intimidate me. And what have I done? I had let her sweep the floor of her luxurious mansion with my dignity.

I was ashamed of myself.

Maybe she was right, after all. I wasn't worthy of her appreciation. There are few things a woman like her has respect for, and I think one of those things is inner strength. It's logical that she wouldn't want her son's other half to be lacking in that department. For all that I knew the whole event had been a strategic test which I had failed with flying colors. There was no one to blame for my failure but my own lame self.

I had underestimated everyone and overestimated myself.

That's not to say Edward couldn't have been more supportive. But I would be a hypocrite to put the blame on him for not getting into a fight with his family because of me. I should have been better at defending myself, and that's that.

At least Carlisle was nice. Maybe if I could win him on my side, I could also win over his wife. But that was something I had no energy left to think about.

As for Emmett and Rosalie, they seemed inoffensive compared to Esme. Of course, they had an important role to play in the whole acceptance thing, but they weren't my biggest concern at the moment. In fact, there was something about Rosalie that felt dissimulated, and I couldn't pinpoint whether the person I met was the real her or a mere façade. I really hoped it was the latter, because I didn't know if I could put up with two harpies at the same time. When it came to despising someone, women were two times scarier and more aggressive than men.

Sometime later -it could have been minutes; it could have been hours- I decided I had moped enough. Getting up from the toilet seat, I groaned as my numb legs almost gave up on me. Straightening up slowly, I dragged my way to the sink, risking a glance in the mirror above it. While my French twist was still pretty much in place, my make-up was ruined. My lipstick was completely gone, my cheeks were tear-stained and I had smudged mascara under my puffy eyes. I looked like a total mess.

Grabbing the bottle of make-up remover I kept on the vanity next to Edward's Givenchy cologne, I started wiping my face with a soft cotton pad. When I was done, I splashed cold water on my face and dabbed myself dry with a towel.

I took a deep breath while looking at my reflection, let my hair down and exited the bathroom with small, tentative steps. Edward wasn't in the living room where I had left him, so I made my way towards his bedroom. I found him lying on his stomach, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows. He must have sensed my presence, because his head suddenly turned in my direction. He jumped to his feet quickly, rushing over to my side but stopping a few feet away as if he wasn't sure whether it was okay to invade my personal space or not.

"Hey," he murmured softly, looking at me warily. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." I nodded, pushing past him and sitting on the edge of the bed.

He came to stand in front of me, one of his hands tugging at his hair while the other took refuge in his front pocket. "You had me worried as hell."

"I'm sorry," I said with a sigh. Glancing at the digital clock on the nightstand, I noticed it was almost one a.m., which meant I had been in the bathroom for two hours.

"No, _I'm_ sorry," he said, crunching down and placing his large palms on top of my thighs. "I'm sorry for everything. I shouldn't have let them treat you like that."

"What could you have done?" I replied weakly, although we both knew the answer to that.

He shook his head sadly. "I should have told them all to go fuck themselves."

"Maybe you'll have your chance next time."

"Will there even be a next time?" He peered up at me uncertainly.

Internally, I asked myself the same question. _Will there be a next time?_

A famous idiom said that_ if you can't join them, beat them, _so that was exactly what I was planning to do.

And yeah, I knew it was the other way around, but I was putting my own personal twist to it.

"She practically threatened to make my life a living hell if I continued seeing you," I answered, and I could see Edward's shoulders sag. After a moment, I added, "I don't know if anyone ever dared defying her. If not, I guess I'll be the first one."

At my words, all tension seemed to leave his body. He let out a sigh of relief, resting his forehead against my stomach as he kneeled on the floor. "That's my girl," he murmured, wrapping his arms around my waist tightly. "Please know that I really am sorry."

"I know," I murmured back, stroking his hair. No matter how angry I had been, I just couldn't stay mad at him. I loved him like I had never loved another man before, and I had no intention of giving him up without a fight.

He looked up at me with remorseful eyes. "I should have scooped you up and left that house as soon as the first biting remark reached my ears. I should've ma-"

I shut him up with a lingering kiss.

"There's nothing you can do now, Edward," I said, pulling back from his moist lips. "Besides, I'm a big girl. I shouldn't hide behind your back and expect you to fight my battles for me."

"This is not _your _fight. It's ours. What affects you, affects me as well," he stressed, moving to sit beside me on the bed. "I can't believe I let them treat you like they did. I'm a fucking coward."

"Don't talk like that."

"It's the sad truth." He rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "The man you love is the biggest coward on the face of the Earth. I'm unworthy of you."

"Edward, they're your family. I don't expect you to fight with them because of me. Do you honestly think I'm the first woman who's ever had to deal with these kinds of problems?"

"Well, no, but…"

"But what?" I cut him off.

"If I allow the disrespect they showed you tonight continue, in the end they're going to drive us apart."

I nodded; deep inside thrilled that he had realized that. "What are you going to do about it?"

It sounded like a challenge, and it kind of was.

"For starters, I'm going to break off all contact with my mother," he said firmly, taking my left hand into his right one and kissing my knuckles.

I gaped at him, not expecting such radical measures. "Are you serious?"

"Very."

"But, Edward…"

"No," it was his turn to stop me. "It needs to be done in order to prove to her that I'm serious about our relationship. If she can't accept you, I can't be a part of her life either."

"What about your older brother?" I inquired tentatively.

"He'll come around."

"You sound pretty sure," I observed.

"I know him well. His bark is worse than his bite."

We were silent for a minute, during which I drew patterns in his palm with my nail.

"Your father seems nice," I said, trying to put a positive spin on our conversation.

"He is," Edward agreed. "Too bad he married my mother."

"Yeah, how does that work, by the way?" I asked curiously. "They are so different."

He let out a humorless chuckle. "I've been asking myself the same thing all of my life."

"I feel bad that I didn't get to say goodbye to him."

"Don't worry about it," he comforted, circling my waist and bringing me closer to him. "He understands why we left in such haste."

"And Jess…" I trailed off, staring blankly at the wall. "I had a book for her in my clutch that I forgot all about. She's such a good kid; it baffles me that she has such horrible parents."

"Rosalie is not usually like that," he defended, confirming my previous suspicion. "I have no idea what had gotten into her tonight."

We continued talking until approximately two a.m. when he let out a long yawn.

"I'm exhausted," he said, his head resting on my shoulder. "How about we go to bed and hopefully forget everything that has transpired at dinner by tomorrow morning?"

Chuckling, I turned to place a barely-there kiss on the tip of his nose. "Wishful thinking, much?"

_~~ 0 ~~_

I woke up the next morning to the sun peeking through the heavy curtains. Edward was wrapped around me like ivy, his soft snores filling the peaceful silence of the room. Last night's events came rushing to my mind, and I brushed them off, not wanting to put a damper on my day.

Stretching my arms over my head in order to reaffirm comfortable muscle tone, I felt Edward shift behind me, his long arms tightening around my torso.

I turned onto my other side to face him. "Good morning."

He smiled sleepily, his eyelids halfway open. "I love you."

I grinned in delight. "The feeling is so, _so very _mutual."

"I'm glad," he breathed, pushing me onto my back and getting on top of me.

His hands pinned mine to the mattress as he began peppering my neck with passionate wet kisses. I sighed and closed my eyes, enjoying his ministrations. After what had happened the previous evening and our minor fight, I needed this. I needed to feel him close; as close as any couple can get in their most intimate moments.

He must have felt the same way, because his hands released mine after a minute, traveled down to my shoulders and squeezed me to him with an air of urgency.

"I love you," he repeated, his voice a mere strangled whisper in my ear.

Shivers ran down my spine.

"I love you, too," I assured him, running my hands over his broad back.

"Look at me," he pleaded, and I obeyed, opening my eyes to see his green ones staring at me ardently.

Slowly, he lifted himself to his knees, his gaze never leaving mine. He took off the plain white t-shirt he usually slept in then proceeded to remove his flannel pants and boxer briefs. As he returned between my parted legs, I noticed that he was already hard.

Picking up the pace, he divested my body of the sheer thong and oversized undershirt I had on. He tossed the clothes to the floor haphazardly, his mouth and hands going straight to my breasts.

I moaned softly, my fingers locking into his reddish locks. He knew me so well that every touch he bestowed upon my skin elicited the most intense sensations. He alternated between each breast, licking and biting at the sensitive nipples until I was incoherent with want. His hand glided between our bodies until he found the sensitive spot above my entrance, starting to rub firm circles with his middle finger, and I spread my legs wider to encourage what he was doing.

He kept up the same rhythmic movements, all the while his luscious lips descending from my breast to my stomach and going up again towards my collarbone and finally wrapping around my own. In no time, I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the desired orgasmic bliss. I came hard; my quiet cry eclipsed by Edward's unrestrained groan. His cheeks were flushed, a clear sign of feverish arousal that could no longer be prolonged.

Unashamedly, I reached down and started stroking his throbbing erection with slow, deliberate caresses, wanting to reciprocate. I looked up into his eyes and saw that his pupils were beginning to dilate alarmingly. Without warning whatsoever, he grabbed my waist and yanked me to his chest, lifting both of us from the mattress. Letting out an embarrassing squeak, I anchored my arms and legs around him, and he chuckled, rising to his feet with me attached to him.

Supporting my weight with one hand, he used the other to hold the back of my neck and plant kiss after kiss upon my lips.

"I want you," he panted, his tone a bit hesitant, almost sounding as if he was asking for permission.

"Then have me," I said, kissing him back.

"In the shower," he replied, starting to walk in the direction of the bathroom.

Before Edward, I had to admit that I had never had shower sex or even bathtub sex. In fact, although I knew what I wanted and what I liked, I had never been too adventurous in that department. It wasn't because I was some kind of prude, but neither one of my two ex-boyfriends had been that great in bed. Mike had been too pushy in a time when I was too inexperienced, while Jacob belonged to the opposite category, refusing to try anything that wasn't missionary or other positions just as boring.

Once in the bathroom, Edward put me down so he could turn on the shower and adjust the water temperature. Then he motioned for me to step into the glass cabin first, slapping my ass playfully as I did so. I loved this vivacious side of him, so as soon as he joined me, I encircled his neck and attacked his mouth vigorously. He responded with equal amount of enthusiasm, and for the first time in many hours, I was glad that I hadn't given Esme the satisfaction of breaking us apart.

His hands rediscovered my body, his erection pressing against my stomach insistently. Once again, I closed my eyes, throwing my head back as his deft fingers found my entrance and his mouth found one of the jugular veins that popped out every time I was overly stimulated. Arching up towards him, my nails dug into his back as a suffering moan escaped me. I was more than ready for him.

"Edward," I whimpered, letting him know.

"I know," he whispered, kissing me through the water that kept falling over us incessantly.

He picked me up again, taking a step forward and pinning me against the transparent wall. Coldness hit my naked back, and I hissed, looking at him, only to see him watching me with such intensity, it made my heart slam against my rib cage violently.

His hard chest pressed against my taut nipples, and without further ado, he parted me with his fingers, aligning himself with my entrance. He thrust inside in one swift motion, and I cried out in both surprise and fulfilled expectation. He held still for a moment, his adoring eyes remaining glued to my face before he pulled out almost all the way and repeated the motion.

I moaned, clinging to him harder and wishing the rush of euphoria I always felt when we were together like this never ended. I started moving against him, meeting him thrust for thrust, and the sensations only grew stronger and more delicious. Our tongues swirled around each other in our own personal version of the timeless and passionate gesture of romantic affection invented by the French.

He was taking, and I was giving.

I was taking, and he was giving.

Pelvis hit against pelvis, causing rough, animalistic sounds to resonate in the confines of the small space. Moans and grunts and groans filled the humid air; the result of an erotic memory in the making. Water cascaded over our joined bodies, blessing our union and acting like a silent witness to a most primal behavior.

It was fervid.

It was zealous.

It was lustful, but ineffably affectionate.

It was simply us.

When I came a second time, he came with me, our harsh breaths mingling between the mere inches that separated our mouths.

Later, he dried me off, wrapped me in his thick, dark blue bathrobe and carried me back to bed. Finding refuge in each other's arms, we kissed some more, making up for last night.

"Edward?" I murmured softly, toying with the elastic band of his flannel pants.

"Hmmm?" he hummed questioningly, placing a peck on my forehead.

"Were you serious about moving in together?" I asked, voicing a thought that had been on my mind since he had mentioned the idea at the family dinner.

"Yes. It doesn't have to be _now_," he emphasized the last word. "It can be a week, two months or a year from now. Whenever you're ready."

"But… are _you_ ready for such a big step?"

"I am," he replied, running his knuckles over my cheek and offering me a smile. "You have to understand that the older you get, the less you drag on the natural stages of a relationship. I want stability and I feel that with you I can achieve it."

He paused briefly before continuing hesitantly.

"What do you say? Would you consider moving in with me?"

"I guess." I shrugged uncertainly, biting on my lower lip. "But I'm not ready yet, and I don't know when I'm going to be."

I loved him, and the idea of living together was more appealing than I liked to admit, but there were still things we needed to work out before we took such an important step.

He nodded solemnly. "I can cope with that. I'll wait for you, because you're the best thing that has happened to me in years. And I swear to you that I'm never going to allow anyone to destroy what we have built in these wonderful eight months since you came into my life."

I looked at him, searching for reassurance. "Promise me."

"I promise you." He pulled me closer to him. "In a time of darkness, you brought me light and made me feel alive again. You brought new purpose to my life, and for that I'll be forever grateful."

_~~ 0 ~~_

That afternoon, as I was letting myself into the apartment Angela and I shared, I was genuinely happy. The dinner had been a total failure, but instead of driving us apart, it had the opposite effect. I felt more connected to Edward than ever, and it was all thanks to Esme and her faithful minions.

I hung my coat on the hallstand and tossed my heels to the side, frowning as I glanced down at them. I had hoped that by accepting Edward's offer to take me shopping, I was going to make a better impression. But no, I only gave them more ammunition to attack me. Naïve, stupid Bella.

Not wanting to ruin my good mood, I shook my head of these thoughts and headed towards the living room. Angela was lying on the couch, eating a Twix.

She sat up when she saw me, a few rebel strands falling from her messy bun. "How did it go?"

"How do you think?" I said with a roll of my eyes, joining her on the couch.

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah." I sighed. "His mother hates me."

"You mean she dislikes you," she rectified, taking another bite of the chocolatey goodness.

"No, I'm pretty sure she absolutely hates me."

"Doesn't she need a good reason for that?"

"Apparently she doesn't." I smiled bitterly. "But I'll tell you all about it later. In other news, Edward asked me to move in with him."

She stared at me blankly. "Say what? His mother is completely against you, and he wants to live together?"

"Yeah."

"Is he insane?" she huffed, her brow furrowing.

When she noticed I was quiet, she tossed the half-eaten Twix on the table and angled her body towards mine. "Please tell me you said no."

Before I had time to reply, she let out an indignant sound. "You said yes? ! "

"I said maybe…"

"What the hell is wrong with you? You barely know him."

"I know him well enough, Angela," I said, getting annoyed. "And it's not like I'm marrying him."

"Marriage is just a formality," she argued. "Moving in with him _is_ like marrying him."

"You're exaggerating. Besides, it's not going to happen for another three or four months, maybe more. On the good side, you and Ben can share the apartment."

"I don't want you gone," she said, her voice taking a softer tonality.

I smiled, patting her thigh and leaning in to kiss her cheek. It was nice to be reminded of how much she truly cared about me, although she rarely expressed it through words.

"Is this what you really want?"

"It is." I nodded, glancing at the TV where _The Pirates of the Caribbean_ was playing. "I love him."

"You're starting to scare the shit out of me," she muttered. "I've never seen you like this."

I looked back at her in surprise. "Like what?"

"So… in love, I guess." She shrugged one shoulder, the scowl she was wearing gradually disappearing. "I really hope it's going to work out for you."

"Yeah, I hope so, too, Ang."

_~~ 0 ~~_

The following days, everything started to get back to normal. I spent my time between school, work and Edward's condo, the usual, comforting routine reinstalling in our lives.

However, there was something that _did_ change. Every day, starting with Monday afternoon, I received a gorgeous flower arrangement.

On Monday, it was lilies of the valley in a tall glass vase with a card in Edward's handwriting saying _return to happiness_.

On Tuesday, it was purple hydrangea, white lisianthus, green celosia and hot pink peonies. The card said _thank you for understanding_.

A green trachelium and black beauty rose arrangement in a golden cube container awaited for me on Wednesday as I stepped through the bookstore's front door. _New beginning_ was written in long, slightly italic letters on a red card. When he made an effort, Edward truly had beautiful handwriting.

The card attached to Thursday's irises contained a single word. _Hope_.

By the time Friday rolled around, I couldn't wait to see what he had in store for me. I arrived at work well after 3 p.m. flushed and out of breath, expecting to see flowers on the sales counter. But there was nothing there. Kate noticed the frown that immediately overtook my features, and she chuckled quietly, shaking her head in amusement.

"You know, I need to invite you two over for dinner sometime," she said. "I can count on one hand the number of times I exchanged words with the man."

"Yeah," I replied distractedly, tossing my school bag on the counter and starting to shrug out of my jean jacket.

_Why didn't he send flowers today?_

_Is this it?_

_Should I call him and see if everything is alright?_

_He said to expect them the entire week. There are three more days until the week is over._

"… that I'm not going to behave like his witch of a mother, right?" Kate's question brought my attention back to her.

"Huh? I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"Never mind," she muttered, rolling her eyes at me.

"Sorry," I repeated, scolding myself internally that I was getting paranoid over such an insignificant thing. Maybe he had forgotten about the flowers or maybe he simply wanted to deliver them in person.

I left the bookstore an hour later than usual. Kate and I had ordered pizza and sat on one of the tangier sofas in the reading area, chatting animatedly about everything and nothing.

As we said our goodbyes for the night, the Starbucks across the street caught my eye. I smiled, remembering my first encounter with Edward, and decided that I could use a cup of coffee.

As I stood in line, drumming my fingers against my bag and waiting for my turn, a hand came to rest on my shoulder as someone's warm breath fanned against my ear.

"Hey."

I whirled around at the sound of the masculine voice, surprised to see Angela's coworker staring back at me with a wide grin.

"Dr. Hall, right?"

"That's right." His grin got even wider if that was possible. "It's nice seeing you again."

"Yeah, it's nice seeing you too," I said politely, taking him in. He was dressed casually in jeans, brown suede shoes and a light blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"You know, since the day I met you, all I could think about was that delicious cake you so graciously let me have," he said flirtatiously.

I laughed quietly, crossing my arms over my chest. "Is this supposed to be a pick-up line?"

"Is it working?"

"No."

He tsked, imitating my posture. "That's too bad. I take it you still have a boyfriend?"

"Yes, I still have a boyfriend."

"Damn." He shook his head, putting on sad face. "You're breaking my heart."

I laughed again, arching an eyebrow at him. "Do girls usually fall for the obnoxiousness you're displaying when hitting on them?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Most of them do."

"Well, unfortunately for you, I'm not like most of them."

"I can see that. Maybe that's why I feel so attracted to you."

"Bluntness is not a problem with you, is it?"

He chuckled, his dark irises boring into mine intently. "It's my main quality. That and persistence."

"You consider those qualities?" I said, seeing in my peripheral that it was my turn to place my order. "Coffee, please. Tall," I addressed the barista.

"I'll have the same," he rushed to add, giving the girl a smile worthy of toothpaste commercials. "As a matter of fact, I do,_ Bella_. I never give up when I want something."

The statement along with the way he said my name sounded more like a prediction to our future interactions, and I could feel my cheeks getting warm.

"Have I told you what beautiful eyes you have?"

The man really _was_ persistent.

"Yes, you have," I answered, averting said eyes and choosing to concentrate on the barista's engagement ring.

He insisted paying for both coffees, and minutes later we were standing on the cement sidewalk just outside the entrance.

"So, you live in this area?" he inquired, sipping on the warm liquid.

"No, I actually work just across the street."

"Where?" He looked around curiously.

"That bookstore over there." I pointed with my forefinger.

"Good to know." He winked playfully.

"So, I have to head home." I took a step back, preparing to make my exit.

"Where did you leave your car?" he asked. "I had to park mine a block away."

"I don't have one. I'm headed towards the subway."

"Oh, let me give you a ride home then."

"Appealing offer, but no, thanks."

"I won't hit on you," he said, his voice suddenly growing serious. "I just want to see that you get home safely."

I looked at him hesitantly. I was tired after a long day, and not having to walk home would have definitely been nice, but my common sense screamed at me that it wasn't prudent to trust in strangers.

"I really shouldn't." I took another step back. "I don't even know you."

"I promise I'm not a serial killer," he tried again, cracking a smile.

"That's exactly what a serial killer would say."

"Come on, Bella. I'll just drop you off and then I'll go on my merry way. Believe it or not, I'm a gentleman and I would hate to think of you walking home at this hour of night. Chicago can be a dangerous city."

I still wasn't persuaded. He seemed like a decent guy and all, but you could never know…

An idea occurred to me, and I told him to wait a minute before pulling out my phone and dialing Angela's number.

"Yeah?" she answered, popping a piece gum.

"So, I just ran into Dr. Hall, and he offered to give me a ride home. Can he be trusted not to rape me and then dump my lifeless body in a dark alley?"

She laughed. "Yeah, he can be trusted. The only threatening thing about him is his big mouth."

"Okay, thanks. I'll see you soon." With that I hung up and looked back at Dr. Hall, only to see him smirk victoriously.

"So?"

"Fine," I huffed. "But keep the flirting to a minimum. I'm not interested."

"Alright, tiger, settle down." He held his hands up in armistice, motioning with his head towards the general direction of his car.

We walked side by side until we reached a white, sports Mercedes. He used a small remote to unlock the doors, and I just gaped at the expensive vehicle incredulously, thinking it was a bit over the top for an ER doctor. Like a true gentleman, he held the passenger door open for me then rounded the car to get behind the wheel.

"You know, your boyfriend is kind of an asshole for not picking you up," he observed, putting his seat belt on.

"He has to work," I defended, doing the same.

"Oh, yeah?" he challenged, turning on the engine. "What does he do?"

"He's a lawyer."

"Hmmm," he hummed disapprovingly, looking at his watch for the time. "It's a bit late for him to be at the office, don't you think?"

"Are you going to keep this up the entire drive?" I snapped, irritated. "You need to let me know while I can still get out of the car."

He laughed, checking his side mirror before pulling into the slow traffic. "I like you. You're feisty. So, where do you live?"

I gave him the address, and he started driving like a maniac on the run, making me grip each side of my seat like my life depended on it. He asked me about school and work, but I was too scared we were going to crash into one of the massive light poles on the sidewalk to give any coherent answers.

Not even ten minutes later, the car stopped with a screech in front of my apartment building, and I let out a sigh of relief.

"Well, thanks for the ride. Good night," I babbled hurriedly, bolting out and reigning in the urge to drop to my knees and kiss the cold asphalt. Edward was a fast driver as well, but this guy was suicidal.

"Bella, wait," he said, running to my side. "Are you okay?"

"I might vomit in your face in a few seconds, but other than that, I'm peachy."

"Sorry," he said, looking abashed. "I've been driving like this ever since I got my license. I can't help it."

I nodded, swallowing back a wave of nausea. "Okay."

He smiled sheepishly. "So, listen, I was wondering if I can see you again."

I was about to answer when a deep voice called behind us. "Isabella?"

I froze, my eyes going wide with shock. I heard the distinct sound of shoes stomping our way, and before I knew it, Edward was standing beside me, wearing a murderous expression. He was dressed in a gray suit and was holding a huge bouquet of pink tulips, but he wasn't looking at me. His stare was fixed on Dr. Hall.

"James?" he gritted through clenched teeth, his eyebrows knitting together.

"Edward," Dr. Hall said, his eyes narrowed.

"How do you two know each other?" I asked, looking from him to Edward questioningly.

"I could ask you the same thing," Edward hissed viciously. "What were you doing in his car?"

"So, you're the boyfriend," Dr. Hall, or better said, James, observed. "Man, you sure got over Tanya's death quickly."

"You knew Tanya?" I gaped at him, not understanding what was going on.

"She was my cousin," he stated, not tearing his glare from Edward's.

"How…" I started to say, but Edward took hold of my upper arm with his free hand, yanking me across the deserted street.

"Let's go."

"I'll see you, Bella!" James called, causing Edward to halt abruptly and spin around.

"You fucking stay away from her," he warned, his fingers tightening their hold on me. "Did you hear me, James? Stay away from her."

I didn't get to see James' reaction, because Edward dragged me inside, stopping in the middle of the quiet lobby.

"Edward, what the hell is wrong with you?" I protested, trying to pry his fingers away. "You're hurting me."

"What were you doing with him?" he demanded, but let go of my arm. "Answer me!"

He was furious, and it baffled me because I had never seen him so out of control.

"He simply offered to give me a ride home. I was buying coffee from that Starbucks across from work and I ran into him," I explained, trying to placate him.

Edward shoved his sleeve up roughly to find his watch. "It's nine o'clock. You got off work at seven. Don't tell me it takes two hours to get home by car."

"I left the bookstore well past eight, Edward," I said, my voice rising to a high pitch. I couldn't believe that he was pretty much accusing me of infidelity.

"How do you know him?" he went on, not missing a beat.

I took a calming breath to refrain from kicking him in the balls. "He works with Angela at the hospital. I met him one day while bringing her lunch. I'm sorry if I angered you, okay? He offered, and I was tired and…"

"I'm buying you a car," he announced, cutting me off.

"What?"

"You heard me," he said, passing by me to head towards the elevator.

"You can't do that!" I yelled, outraged, running after him.

"Watch me!" he yelled back over his shoulder, violently hitting the down button with his thumb.

"Are you insane?" I argued as we both stepped inside. "You can't buy me a car."

"I can and I will. End of discussion."

Okay, now it was my turn to be furious.

"Who are you to decide when this conversation is over?" I poked his chest with my forefinger, glaring up at him defiantly. "I don't want you to spend such a large amount of money on me. Isn't it enough that your family thinks I'm a gold-digger?"

"I don't give a fuck about what my family thinks."

"Oh, really?" I said sarcastically, just as the doors opened on my floor. "I think you do."

"What is that supposed to mean?" he squinted at me, but I turned my back on him, walking inside the apartment.

"Isabella!" he called, following close behind. "I asked you a fucking question."

Deciding to ignore him, I threw my bag to the floor, leaning down to take off my sneakers.

"Jesus, what is it with all the yelling?" Angela appeared from around the corner, holding a bowl of cereal.

"He wants to buy me a car," I spat, straightening up and jerking my head in Edward's direction.

"Oh, good." She smiled, leaning against the wall. "I think it's a great idea."

"Thank you, Angela," he replied, slamming the front door close and pushing the flowers into her arms.

"Whose side are you on, Judas?" I glared at _my_ tulips that were now in _her_ possession.

"Face it, Bella," she said, noticing my expression and shaking the bouquet in front of me. "You need a car, and he has the means, so I don't see what the big deal is."

I groaned in exasperation. "We've only been together a few months. Don't you think it's a bit early for that kind of gifts?"

"No," they both answered in unison.

"Ugh!" I threw my hands in the air, stomping towards my room. "I give up."

My bedroom was a bit messy, since I hadn't had enough time to clean up after myself that morning, but I couldn't have cared less. There were clothes scattered on my bed and on the back of my desk chair, while the contents of my make up bag were lying between books on my clustered desk.

Edward looked around briefly before shoving a pair of jeans to the side so he could sit down. In other circumstances, I would have been embarrassed about the disorder, but right now I was too pissed off to give a damn. I whirled around to face the open closet and started undressing.

"You're being stubborn without a reason," he said with a heavy sigh.

"I have a reason. It's too much, okay? I can't accept it."

"Do you love me?"

Frowning, I glanced at him over my shoulder. "You know I do."

"So do I." He got up, coming to stand behind me as his arms encircled my naked waist. "Accept this car as a token of my love for you."

"Don't be a hypocrite. A big chunk of expensive metal has nothing to do with love, Edward."

"Why won't you let me take care of you?" he demanded, getting annoyed. "Why are you so infuriating?"

"You want to know why?" I turned around in his embrace. "It's because this sudden impulse of yours has to do with Dr. Hall not with love. Or should I call him James?"

"That's not true," he said, his jaw set.

"Yes, it is. At least have the decency to admit it. You're jealous of him."

He let go of me, his hands going to his front pockets. "How else was I supposed to feel at seeing you come out of his car, huh? Tell me. What would you have done if you were in my shoes? How would _you_ have felt?"

"I said I'm sorry. It won't happen again. And why are you so against him anyway?"

Edward looked away, seeming to concentrate his attention on the window. "I can't stand him. He'll hit on anything wearing a skirt."

"Are you jealous of him?" I asked, but my question was met with silence. "Answer me."

"Yes," he hissed, looking back at me. "Yes, I am. Are you happy now?"

"Yes. It's better to admit your frustration than to keep it to yourself," I said, placing my hand on his chest. "I told you it won't happen again and I intend to keep my word."

He sighed, placing his hand on top of mine. "Just… stay away from him. There's something about him I don't like, but I can't put my finger on it. I never could."

"You mean, aside from being a womanizer?" I joked.

Edward chuckled quietly. "Yeah, aside from that."

"Okay." I nodded gravely, leaning into him.

His arms came around me once again as he gave me a light peck. "Hi."

My face split into a goofy grin. "Hi."

The crisis had been averted just as quickly as it had begun. We never could stay angry with each other for long, no matter how heated our arguments were.

"Please let me buy you a car. I'll feel better knowing you get home safely."

"There's always the possibility of an accident happening," I argued weakly, because to be honest I was already getting tired of the subject.

Yeah, I missed driving and having a car at my disposal whenever I needed one, but it felt weird to get one as a gift. I had always imagined that I was going to buy my first real car with my own money, not my wealthy boyfriend's.

While living in Forks, I used to drive an old beat-up Chevy truck that always needed some kind of repairing, and now I was on the verge of being the future owner of a brand new vehicle that I did nothing to deserve.

Edward stared at me expectantly. He wasn't going to give up until I said yes.

I was annoyed with him, but at the same time I had to admit that deep down I was excited at the prospect of using my driver's license again, so I went with the first impulse.

"Okay, fine," I relented with a huff. "Buy me a damn car."

He beamed in return, looking pleased with himself. "What brand would you like?"

"I don't know." I shrugged, not really caring. "Something that's cheap and small."

"How about an Audi? I think you'd like the new A3."

"That's neither small nor cheap."

"I'm not buying you anything under thirty thousand dollars," he said firmly, daring me through narrowed eyes to fight him on it.

"That's a lot of money, Edward," I retorted, knowing that sooner or later I was going to give in and let him buy me whatever he wanted.

"Then how would you feel about a Volkswagen Scirocco?"

I searched my memory briefly. "Isn't that a sports car?"

"Mmhmm." He smirked knowingly. "You'd look good in it. Sexy."

"I like Volvo."

He craned his neck to the side for a second, seeming to be considering it. "That's actually a good choice. They make safe cars. Where's your laptop? I want to show you a few models."

And that's how, two weeks later, I had a shiny new Volvo in a burgundy color parked in front of Angela's old Toyota.

* * *

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**Let me know what you thought of it.**

**~ Andreea** ~


	20. Chapter 19: Firm

**A/N There are pictures of Bella's Volvo and Edward's BMW on my profile. This chapter is a transitory one, so it's a bit shorter than usual.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 19<strong>

**Edward Pov**

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><p><em>~ April 15<em>_th__, 2012 ~_

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"Yes?" I answered the phone, stifling a yawn. I was in the kitchen making coffee while Isabella was still in bed, watching the morning news.

"Hey, Edward," Alice greeted.

"Hello, Alice."

"How are you?" she inquired.

"I'm fine," I said, leaving the coffee maker to do its job as I headed over to the windows and gazed out to the beautiful spring day that was just beginning. "And you?"

"I'm okay," she replied before pausing for a moment. "I was wondering how Bella is doing? I wanted to call her, but I figured she probably doesn't want to have anything to do with the infamous Cullen clan."

"You're not a Cullen yet," I argued, her comment confirming my suspicions about why she hasn't tried to contact Isabella in the last week. "And she's doing just fine. Fortunately, she's already gotten over that horrendous dinner."

"That's good to hear." I could hear the relief in her voice.

"Mmhmm," I hummed affirmatively.

"So, do you guys have plans for tonight?"

"No, we don't. Why?"

"Would you like to come over?" she asked tentatively. "We'll order take out and watch a movie or something, just the four of us."

"I don't know. I'll have to ask Isabella," I said, walking back to the countertop and placing a few homemade cookies on a plate. "Better yet, why don't you call her? I'm sure she'll be happy to hear from you."

"You think?" She didn't sound so sure.

"Call her," I said more firmly.

"Okay, I will. Talk to you later."

She was about to hang up when I remembered something very important. "Oh, and Alice?"

"Yes?"

"I want you to do something for me."

As I hung up, I couldn't help but think about the previous weekend's events and a sudden wave of guilt washed over me. I was ashamed to admit that I had acted like a coward and let Isabella fend for herself. What I had done was comparable to pushing her into the lion's den and then watching impassively as she was being attacked.

To be honest, I had no idea why I had let my family treat her that way. We should have left as soon as my mother begun throwing poisonous arrow after poisonous arrow at Isabella; there was no excuse for my impassiveness. But I guess that deep down I had hoped that Mom was going to back off eventually. And she had, but only too late when the damage was already done.

Prior to overhearing her threatening Isabella, I was still fairly optimistic in regard to their future interactions. Although Mom had been hostile towards her, I truly believed that there was still a chance for her to see Isabella as the wonderful woman that she was. But now I was certain that my mother was never going to change her mind about her, and it pained me to know that the two most important women in my life were never going to get along.

It also pained me to break off all contact with my mother, but it needed to be done in order to give Isabella the respect she deserved and to help our relationship survive. Regardless of how ill-tempered and manipulative Mom tended to be, I still had a great deal of affection towards her, and that fact was probably never going to change.

She had kept calling and texting me every day since the dinner, pleading with me to talk to her, but I hadn't budged so far. I was keen on teaching her a lesson, and the coldness I was treating her with seemed to pay off. She had even asked Dad to interfere, but to her utter disappointment he had refused, saying that it was her job to fix her own mistake. To say that she was desperate would be an understatement. She sensed that she was rapidly losing her son, and for good reason.

As for my relationship with Emmett, it was pretty much the same. We were ignoring each other, unless work actually forced us to acknowledge one another. He was sticking by our mother's side fiercely, but I believed that for him there was still time for redemption. He wasn't a bad man, but he was stubborn as hell and he most certainly didn't like to admit that he was wrong.

When I headed back to the bedroom minutes later, Isabella was on the phone.

"Don't worry about it," she said, watching me as I placed her coffee and the plate with the cookies on the nightstand by her side of the bed. She smiled at me, continuing her conversation. "Mmhmm... Mmhmm… Yeah, we'd love to…. Okay, see you later."

"Alice?" I questioned, starting to undress for my morning shower.

"Yeah," Isabella answered, her smile never faltering. "She was afraid that I was upset with her because of how Esme treated me."

I frowned, tossing my plain white t-shirt on the bed at her feet. "Why would you be upset with her for something that my mother did?"

"That's what I asked her. It's not her fault Esme is an evil witch," she said, and I looked at her in surprise. She was watching me with an expression that dared me to contradict her. When I didn't, she went on. "But she feels like she should have defended me or something."

"I should have been the one defending you," I muttered, proceeding to remove my flannel pants.

"Let's not open that subject again," she said sternly, reaching for the coffee and taking a sip.

I nodded, finally stripping out of my boxer briefs. "So, I take it we're meeting them today?"

"Yeah," she said absently, watching my naked form with a sexy leer. "Now come back to bed."

I chuckled. "I don't think so."

"Why not?" she whined, displaying a ridiculous pout.

"We have to go running in the park, remember?" I said, starting to walk out of the room. Because neither of us had had time for the gym that week, we had agreed that we were going running on the weekend since the weather was now warm enough.

"Ugh," she groaned, throwing a pillow at me and hitting me in the back. "Can't we skip running today?"

I stopped in the doorway, picked up the pillow and threw it back at her. "No."

"Just today?" she laughed, parrying the hit with her forearm. "Please?"

"No. Get up."

She huffed. "You're a tyrant."

"Yes, but you owe your nice toned ass to this tyrant," I said, smirking, and she rolled her eyes at me.

"Oh," I added, stopping once again and turning to face her. "I didn't want to remind you because of the dinner and everything that transpired afterwards, but last Sunday it was Jessica's birthday. I sent her a gift from the both of us this Tuesday."

I had sent her the gift through Emmett, and even though we weren't exactly on speaking terms, he had no choice but to accept it.

"Oh my God," Isabella groaned, covering her face with her palms. "I forgot all about it. I feel so bad."

"I know you wanted to give her that book you had in your clutch."

"Yeah." She nodded sadly. "I was so nervous about meeting your mother…"

"I know," I cut her off gently. "Trust me, Jessica's birthday was the last thing on my mind as well. That's why she's going to be at Alice's this evening."

She perked up immediately at the news. "Really?"

"Yes." I winked conspiratorially. "We're going to celebrate, just the five of us."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Later that evening, we were heading towards Alice's condo. Soft jazz music was playing in the car, and I smiled as Isabella reached over to the gear shift and placed her hand on top of mine. I laced our fingers together, bringing her knuckles to my lips and pressing a gentle kiss against them.

"I need to tell you something," she uttered, rubbing my thumb with hers.

I glanced at her to see that she was biting on her lip which meant that she was nervous about what she was about to say.

"What is it?"

She hesitated before speaking again more softly. "Dr. Hall… I mean, James asked Angela the other day if he could have my phone number."

"Did she give it to him?" I demanded to know, my voice rough. The mere mention of his name was enough to make me see red, but the fact that he had asked for her number when I had explicitly told him to stay away from her...

"No," Isabella said quickly, cutting off my train of dark thoughts.

"Good."

She angled her body towards me. "Is there something more you're not telling me about him?"

"Beside the fact that he's a sleazy bastard?" I muttered, keeping my gaze on the traffic ahead.

Truth be told, there were a few things about James that I had omitted telling Isabella.

That night when I had seen her climb out of his car, I was too furious to think before acting. I wanted her out of his presence as soon as possible, and I had to admit that my reaction had been a bit over the top. But there was a good reason for that.

From my past experiences with James, I knew that he was a despicable human being, using his charm and flirty personality to hide his vicious nature. He was dissimulative, concealing under a false appearance with the intent of deceiving those who weren't familiar with his true persona. Those like Isabella.

On top of that, he had serious moral issues, he was also a womanizer and he liked alcohol a little too much. That was the James I knew, and I sincerely doubted that he had changed in the few years I hadn't seen him.

"You seem really against him," Isabella insisted. "Why?"

I sighed, deciding it was better to tell her about his relationship with Tanya and why I despised him so much.

"Since the first time I met him, I knew he was bad news. He changes women like socks, he's rude, obnoxious and a bad influence on everyone who spends enough time with him," I started, turning to look at her as we waited at a red light.

"Tanya used to love him to death. That's until I came around and forced her to see him for whom he truly was. He always took her clubbing and to pretentious parties and got her drunk to the brink of unconsciousness. She was just so different around him and not in a good way. That's why my mother didn't like her very much in the beginning. But when we moved in together, I conditioned her. It was James or me. I asked her to interrupt all contact with him, or I was going to break it off with her. She got scared and accepted my condition, and since then we only saw him at family gatherings. He hates me with a passion because of it."

"That explains your reaction to him," Isabella mused.

"There's much to be said about James Hall, but I don't want to ruin my evening by talking about him," I said. "The thing is that I don't trust him. I never had and I never will, no matter what Angela says about him. She can have her opinion, and I'll stick to mine."

She nodded, gazing out her window as we both grew silent. The conversation was over as soon as it had started.

Minutes later, we were knocking on Alice's door. Jasper greeted us, wearing faded jeans, a ratty t-shirt and a genuine smile on his face.

"Come on in."

"Hi, Jasper." Isabella returned the smile, stepping inside.

"Hi," he said, leaning down to give her a brief hug which surprised the both of us. "It's good to see you again."

Isabella blushed, but seemed pleased with his display of affection. "It's good to see you too."

Just then Alice came down the hallway, dressed just as casually. "Hey, guys," she said, beaming as her eyes landed on Isabella.

It was Isabella's time to take Alice by surprise as she hugged her tightly. "Hi, Alice."

Alice wrapped her arms around her, relief flooding her features. When she straightened up, she called over her shoulder, "Jess! Bella's here."

The sound of running feet reached our ears, and Alice made sure to add conspiratorially, "It was actually Edward's idea."

"Bella!" Jessica squealed, throwing herself into her awaiting arms. "Hey."

"Hi, Jess," Isabella breathed, pulling back a few inches to take her in. "Oh, wow. What did you do to your hair? You look so pretty."

Jessica had her blond hair pulled up in a sleek, crooked ponytail that had been braided and anointed with some kind of hair wax to keep the stray threads in place.

"You think?" she said, twirling around for us to admire her new hairstyle. "Alice did it."

"Absolutely," Isabella said. "Good job, Alice."

"Okay, I'm starting to feel ignored here," I complained, looking at Jessica pointedly. "Don't I get a hug?"

She rolled her eyes, but wrapped her arms around my torso nonetheless. "Hi, Uncle Eddie."

"Hey." I gave her a kiss on the forehead.

When we were finally seated in the living room, Isabella pulled out the neatly wrapped book from her bag, handing it to Jessica.

"So, this is for you. I'm really sorry that I forgot about your birthday."

"Eh, it's okay." She shrugged, starting to tear at the wrapping paper eagerly. "Uncle Eddie sent me a present."

It didn't escape my notice that Emmett hadn't mentioned that the gift I had sent was from the both of us.

"Well, I have one for you as well," Isabella said, watching Jessica's reaction attentively. "I hope you'll like it."

Jessica smiled as her eyes landed on the lively colored cover. "Oh, I'm sure I will. I loved every book you've ever given me. Thanks."

"You're welcome."

The rest of the evening was spent in great company, and I think Isabella was just as grateful as I was to at least have Jasper and Alice on our side. They accepted our relationship without judging. They didn't care about our age difference and most importantly they didn't give a damn whether Isabella belonged in _our world_ or not.

In regards to Jessica, she was too young and innocent to have her soul tainted by prejudice and discrimination, and for that I was glad.

Alice ordered Italian takeout, and we ate while savoring a glass of good wine and listening to Jess talk about school and the dancing lessons she had recently started taking.

Sometime around ten, we cut the chocolate cake I had asked Alice to buy earlier that morning. Jess was delighted that she was practically celebrating her birthday for the second time, not missing the opportunity to point out that the cake was better than her mom's.

Before we left, Alice asked Isabella to help her wash the dishes. They both went into the kitchen, and by the time they emerged twenty minutes later, it was clear that it had all been a pretext for them to talk. Isabella was beaming as she sat on my lap while Alice kept smiling at us approvingly for the rest of the evening.

_~~ 0 ~~_

A week later, I was standing on the sidewalk in front of Isabella's apartment building as I dialed her number. I had taken the morning off from work, because her Volvo C70 had arrived, and I had arranged for it to be brought to her address at eleven a.m. on Monday. There was an immense red bow on top of the hood to match the beautiful burgundy of the car's metallic body, and I was excited to see Isabella's reaction at seeing her new vehicle for the first time.

Although the car was the result of a jealousy induced impulse, I was now berating myself for not thinking about buying her one earlier. She needed her own means of transportation, and it was my duty to make sure that her needs were met. Unfortunately, it had taken James and a fit of possessiveness on my part to realize that I had not been taking care of her the way I should have.

"Yeah?" she answered groggily after what seemed like an eternity. I knew she didn't have classes that particular Monday, so she had been sleeping in.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty," I said cheerfully, watching as a young passerby gave the car a curious look.

"Ugh." She groaned, sounding half-asleep. "Why are you calling me so early in the morning?"

I chuckled, throwing my watch a fugitive glance. "It's well past eleven, my love."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yes, really," I said amusedly. "Now, put some clothes on and come downstairs."

"Why?" There was suspicion in her voice, and I could almost picture her narrowing her eyes at the phone.

"Because I say so. I'm waiting, and you know that I don't like it when you keep me waiting."

That remark seemed to wake her up completely. "Are you seriously downstairs?"

"Yes, I am. Now can you please hurry? There's something I want you to see."

"Fine, fine." She sighed, scrambling out of bed with a loud thud. "I'm coming."

When she stepped outside a minute later, she was still wearing her pajamas, a pair of UGG boots and a long cardigan that reached her knees. I smiled invitingly from where I was leaning against the side of the car, and her sleepy eyes widened as her hand flew to cover her mouth.

"Oh my God!" she yelled, causing an old pedestrian to glare at her like he thought she had lost her mind. "It's here!"

"Do you like it?"

She stared at the car in awe for a few seconds before throwing herself into my arms with such force that she managed to knock the breath out of me. "I love it, I love it, I love it," she chanted as she climbed on me. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," I said in a strangled whisper because she had her arms wrapped so tightly around my neck that she was cutting off my air.

I was just about to drop her back to the ground so I could breathe, when Angela showed up with her arms akimbo. "What's going on here?"

Isabella let go of me, jumped down and turned to attack her friend instead. "My car is here! Oh my God, my car is here! I can't believe it."

Angela craned her neck to look past Isabella. "Okay, this is not fair. You go from no car to _this_?"

Isabella grinned, spinning around and running back to me. I took a step back, afraid that she was going to strangle me again, but she just halted in front of me, holding her hand out for the key. I gave it to her, and she looked at Angela with a thrilled expression.

"You were the one who insisted I needed one in the first place."

"Yeah, yeah." Angela waved her off with a sly smile as Isabella opened the driver's door and got inside. "Man, I have to admit that I love the color."

"If you behave yourself, maybe I'll buy you one for your birthday," I teased.

She smirked challengingly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Don't make promises that you can't keep, Edward."

"I can't wait to drive it," Isabella moaned longingly, running her palms over the leather wheel.

"Did you catch a cold?" I asked, my brow furrowing. "Your voice sounds a bit different."

"Yeah, I think I did." She shrugged nonchalantly. "Spring colds suck."

"Make sure to take something for it," I advised.

"Mmhmm," she hummed, only half listening to me. "Can I take it for a ride now?"

"You can do whatever you like. It's yours."

"What are you waiting for then? Hop in."

I let Angela in the passenger seat as I stretched my long form on the backseat. Isabella put the key in the ignition and immediately started fumbling with the different buttons on the dashboard, pushing the top-down button in the process.

"Isabella, I don't think that driving with the top down is a good idea, given your condition," I said, referring to her cold.

She turned around in her seat to smile at me indulgently. "Please don't ruin my good mood. I want to enjoy driving my new car for the first time."

I held my hands up defensively, deciding not to say anything more on the subject. I was just glad that she was so accepting of the car after the fight she had put when I first suggested it.

I was aware of the fact that it wasn't easy for her to agree to such expensive gifts, but whether she wanted to admit it or not, this car was a necessity. Maybe a part of her consciousness was telling her it was wrong to give in, but judging by her blissful expression, a much bigger part was telling her that it was okay to do so.

_~~ 0 ~~_

Isabella's cold got worse in the following days. On Thursday evening, I arrived at her apartment, only to find her lying in bed with a cloth compress on her forehead and a cup of tea between her hands. She smiled apologetically, telling me not to get too close because she didn't want to give it to me. I waved her off dismissively, taking off my suit jacket and rolling up my shirt's sleeves as I prepared myself to take care of her.

Angela was working the night shift at the hospital so I went into the kitchen and warmed up some soup, pouring it into a bowl and bringing it to Isabella. When she was done eating, I washed the bowl and a few other dishes that were lying in the sink before returning to her side. I slid under the covers beside her, pulling her to me until her head rested on my chest.

"Do you want me to make you some more tea?" I said, rubbing her arm comfortingly and reigning in the urge to scold her because she hadn't listened to me when I told her it was a bad idea to drive with the top down.

"No. Ugh, I feel like a zombie and I bet I look like one as well."

"Well…" I trailed off teasingly.

She chuckled, hitting me in the chest weakly. "You're an asshole. You should argue that I look beautiful, boost my spirits or something."

"Well, I don't feel comfortable lying to you…"

"Edward!" she gasped in mock outrage, raising her head to look at me.

"I'm kidding," I said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. "You look beautiful with puffy eyes and a red runny nose."

She rolled her eyes at me. "I bet I do alright."

"You know, there's an effective cure for that."

"Beside chicken soup?" she said nasally, reaching to the nightstand for another tissue.

"Yes, beside chicken soup."

"Pray tell."

"Sex," I replied simply.

"Yeah, right," she huffed, blowing her nose.

"I'm serious. It's been scientifically proven that sex stimulates the immune system."

She finished wiping her nose and looked at me like I had suddenly gone insane. "Are you seriously suggesting that we have sex?"

"No, I'm just stating a fact. I read in a magazine once that a Swiss researcher from Zurich has concluded that sexual intercourse not only has physical benefits but it also builds up the immune system, allowing the body to attack and kill ailments like the common cold better. This guy found that the number of antibodies increases significantly during sex and may even double during an orgasm."

"So you _are_ suggesting that we have sex," she concluded, leaning over me to toss the tissue in the waste bin she had dragged next to the bed.

I shrugged, running my fingers through her hair. "I'm just telling you what I think would help."

She stared at me for a moment, seeming to contemplate my suggestion. "Have you tried it before?"

"Actually, I have."

"And did it work?"

"It did. But it has to be done under a thick comforter or blanket so you can sweat out the toxins in your body. After that, you take a really hot bath and an aspirin, and I guarantee that by tomorrow morning you'll feel much better."

"Huh," she said pensively. "What if I sneeze in your face?"

I laughed. "I'll take the risk."

She remained immobile for another minute or so before moving off of me abruptly.

"Okay, I'm desperate enough to try it," she said, sitting back on her knees and starting to pull her t-shirt off. "Start undressing."

"Yes, ma'am," I saluted playfully, getting out of bed and stripping quickly.

_~~ 0 ~~_

The next day, around six in the evening, I was in my study at home when I heard the front door unlock. Susan was already in the kitchen, cooking, so it could only have been Isabella. I abandoned the papers I'd been holding on the desk and got up from the chair, making my way down the hallway.

She was just removing her ankle boots, but smiled up at me when she saw me. "Hey," she said, her voice husky from the cold.

"How are you feeling?" I inquired, leaning against the wall with my arms crossed over my chest as I watched her straighten up and take off her jacket.

"Much better," she admitted. "I even went to work for a couple of hours today."

I smirked. "See? I told you it was the best cure. We need to do it again tonight."

"Definitely." She grinned, stepping in front of me. Removing my glasses, she leaned in to kiss me on the lips softly then sniffed the air curiously. "I'm starving. What's Susan making?"

"She's making _Garidomakaronada_ with Ouzo and fresh tomatoes," I said with a smile, pulling her in for another kiss.

"Say what?" She scrunched her nose in confusion, pushing my glasses on top of her head to keep the hair from her face.

I explained, "_Garidomakaronada_ is a compound word in Greek meaning pasta and shrimp."

"Oh. It sounds good."

I hummed in agreement, taking her hand in mine and pulling her towards the living room. "It's delicious."

Over dinner, we made light conversation as we enjoyed our meals. I was having a glass of white wine while Isabella sipped on a glass of orange juice from time to time.

"I was thinking we need to start planning our vacation to France," I said, chewing on a piece of pasta. "I promised I was going to take you and I intend to keep my word."

Isabella nodded, wiping the corners of her mouth with her napkin. "Okay, what did you have in mind?"

"I'll take two weeks off from work, and we can spend the first week in Paris and the second one in Monaco."

"I would like to see the French countryside as well," she replied tentatively.

"Sure. Whatever you prefer. We can also visit Mont Saint-Michel."

Her expression lit up at hearing my proposition. "Oh, I'd like that. I bet the island is beautiful."

"It is, especially at night. Saint Michel Abby is one of the most impressive I've ever seen."

"Did you know that French composer Claude Debussy frequented the island and possibly drew inspiration from not only the legend of the mythical city of Ys, but also Mont Saint-Michel's cathedral for his piano prelude _La Cathedrale Engloutie_?"

My eyebrows rose in surprise. "I did not know that. I also didn't know that you are a lover of classical music."

She smiled over the rim of her glass. "I'm not exactly a lover of classical music, but I do enjoy _good_ music."

"You and me both." I chuckled with a sense of nostalgia. "Did I ever tell you that I used to play the piano when I was younger?"

"No, you didn't, but I have to confess that I'm pleasantly surprised. Do you still play?"

I sighed heavily, shaking my head. "I haven't in quite a while."

"You need to play for me sometime," she said, reaching across the table for my hand and linking our fingers together.

"Unfortunately, I don't own a piano anymore."

"Why?"

I shrugged, bringing her knuckles to my mouth. "When Tanya died, I lost all appetite for life, especially for music."

She smiled mischievously. "You don't seem like the kind of guy who would know how to play the piano."

I chuckled at her comment. "Is it because I'm a lawyer?"

"Well… yeah."

"Never judge a book by its cover," I scolded gently, but I started regretting the words as soon as they left my mouth.

Isabella's brow furrowed, the air between us changing abruptly. "You can tell your mother that," she muttered. "Is she still calling you?"

"Mmhmm." I nodded, letting go of her hand and going back to my food.

There was a long pause during which only the sound of our eating could be heard. Then Isabella decided to speak again. "You should talk to her; let her know of your decision."

"No," I uttered firmly. "I'm still too angry with her. I don't even want to hear her voice."

"What does your father say?"

"He's pretty much impartial on this. He knows Mom is guilty so he's not even _trying_ to defend her."

Then, a minute later, as if she sensed that we were talking about her, my mother decided to call. I frowned at the phone and tossed it on the table roughly, but Isabella grabbed it and glanced at the number flashing on the display furiously.

"You should answer," she urged, pushing the phone towards me.

I knew she was right; I needed to confront my mother and tell her that I had decided to cut off all contact with her. But I had to admit that I was afraid she was going to convince me otherwise. My mother's manipulative ways knew no limits, and I didn't even want to think about what she was capable of doing to gain me back.

The phone grew silent, but just as I was about to let out a sigh of relief, it started ringing again with even more vigor.

Isabella gave me a pointed look, and with a low groan, I picked it up. "Yes?"

"Edward," judging by her gasp, she hadn't expected me to answer. "How are you, honey?"

"What do you want, Mother?" I said flatly, letting her know that I was in no mood for chatting. I wanted to put an end the conversation as soon as possible.

"You haven't been answering any of my calls these last couple of weeks, and I was afraid that you're upset with me."

I laughed humorlessly. "I'm not upset, Mother. I'm furious."

"But, Edward…" she started to say in a pleading voice, and I cut her off.

"You humiliated Isabella in front of everyone, and for that I'm _never _going to forgive you. I only answered your call to let you know that from this day forward we have nothing to tell to each other anymore. If you can't accept her, I refuse to be a part of your life."

"Edward, you, you are my son, you-" she stammered, panic starting to set in, and I cut her off once again.

"No, Mother," I retorted gravely. "I'm not your son anymore."

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><p><strong>AN Thank you for reading!**

**I want to wish everyone a Happy New Year, and I hope you had a lovely Christmas with your family and loved ones!**

**See you next year…**

**~Andreea~**


	21. Chapter 20: Scared

**A/N Surprise!**

**Long author's note ahead, but please read because it's IMPORTANT.**

**Regarding, Edward's sudden (although he made it clear the previous chapter that this was his intention) decision of breaking off all contact with his mother, I have to say that it is just a REACTION. He's trying to scare some sense into her. He's feeling guilty and that's why in some way he's trying to make it up to Bella. That that doesn't mean Esme and him will never speak again. She's his mother for Christ's sake.**

**And yes, I know he can be indecisive and his actions may give you whiplash**_**,**_** but just so you know, he'll never be perfect because it was never my intention to create a perfect character. My inspiration for Edward is a friend of mine who's always had problems with her mother, so his reactions and the way he sometimes acts when it comes to Esme are inspired by her. Sometimes she would be firm in her decision of not letting her mother rule her life, but other times, no matter what her mother did to her, she would come back for more. That's not to say Edward will do the same, but I'm only pointing out that real people act in a certain way that doesn't always make sense.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 20<strong>

**Isabella Pov**

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><p><em>~ June 8<em>_th__, 2012 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

"I'm clueless," I sighed as I browsed through the rack of men's clothes in a pretty expensive boutique store in downtown Chicago. "I have no idea whatsoever what to get."

It was a Friday afternoon in June, and I was shopping for Edward's present. His birthday was in a couple of weeks, and I was already starting to stress about it. I had no idea what to get him.

"What _do_ you get a man who has everything?" Angela said from beside me, tossing a t-shirt back on the rack. Since she was a Gemini just like Edward, her birthday had been on the first of June. We had celebrated at a nice pub, and Edward got to meet Ben for the first time.

"Exactly!" I moaned, walking over to the couch in front of the changing rooms and sitting down. I was so tired, I felt like I could have passed out right then and there. "I was thinking I could get him his favorite cologne."

"Good idea," she said, joining me on the couch.

I shook my head. "But he's not even finished the one he already has. The bottle is half full."

"You could get him a tie or something…" she suggested.

"I don't know. He's really picky when it comes to clothes, ties especially."

"A watch?" she tried again.

I chuckled lowly. "I don't think I can afford the kind of watches he wears."

Angela rolled her eyes, adopting a more relaxed position with her right leg crossed over her left one. "Then get him a potted plant."

"Har, har. Very funny."

"Oh, I know." She sat up straighter, getting excited. "You can get him a bottle of scotch."

I gave her a dubious look.

"Yeah, I mean, you once said that he likes _Chivas Regal, _right?"

"Yeah, and?"

She grinned. "You can buy him one of those expensive twenty year old bottles."

"Yeah, I guess I could," I said slowly after a moment. "I don't know what else I could get him, so I think that should do."

"I know a great liquor store." She sat up, holding her hand out to help me to my feet, and I groaned, because if it were up to me I would have never left that couch.

_~~ 0 ~~_

An hour later, we had ended up purchasing a bottle of _Chivas Regal Royal Salute 100 cask_ that cost me three hundred fifteen dollars. I had been saving for Edward's birthday for a while, so it hadn't exactly made a hole in my budget, but it still felt weird to pay such an amount of money on alcohol, even if it was a gift.

On our way home, Angela and I stopped at a coffee shop to recharge our batteries. I parked the car across the street, and we made our way inside, heading for the sales counter.

"What can I get you?" the barista asked nicely.

"I'll have a honey vanilla latte," Angela said, pulling out her wallet.

"And I'll have a cappuccino and blueberry muffin, please," I added, reaching for my own wallet.

"Make that two blueberry muffins," Angela said, pushing away the five dollars I was offering her. "It's on me."

As she waited to pick up our order, I went outside to look for a table. I found one in a corner and plopped down on the cushiony chair, letting out a suffering groan. As I glanced at my phone looking for the time, I saw it was only four p.m. We hadn't been out that long, but for some reason, I was feeling like I had run a marathon.

Maybe I needed to hit the gym harder.

But despite my tiredness, I was feeling pretty content. Except for work, I was free for the summer to do with my time as I pleased. I was done with college, and Edward had been there to see me graduate last month.

And even though I hadn't wanted to make a big deal out of it because I wasn't the first person to ever finish college, Edward had insisted on taking Kate, Angela and I out for dinner to celebrate. But the fact that my parents couldn't be part of my graduation festivity had made me a bit melancholic, and I promised to myself that after we came back from France, I was going to ask Edward to accompany me on a short trip to Forks.

I pushed my sunglasses on top of my head and glanced at the busy street, smiling when my eyes landed on the Volvo. I loved my new car so much and I was glad that I had accepted it, after all. Although the gas was a little on the expensive side, it was so worth it. Driving it felt like heaven. I loved the color, I loved the fact that it was a convertible, and I most definitely loved that it was one of the safest brands out there.

Staring at the car led to thinking about Edward and wondering what he was doing. It had been more than two months since the unfortunate event with his family, and he was still giving his mother the silent treatment.

Even though none of us had actually said it out loud, we both knew that his decision of not talking to her was a bit steep. But if we were to think about the fact that she had threatened to ruin my life if I kept seeing her son, it was the only solution. I mean, what kind of woman threatens her son's girlfriend a mere couple of hours after she meets her? Esme was obviously deranged.

But the strange thing was her reaction to Edward cutting off all contact with her. We had expected her to continue assaulting him with phone calls and text messages. We had even expected her to give us a fake apology which we would have accepted, because all we wanted was for her to stop being such an evil witch. Neither Edward nor I cared if Esme was pretending to like me as long as she was being civil.

What we hadn't expected was a taste of our own medicine. We hadn't heard from her since Edward's last phone conversation with her, and it was kind of freaking out the both of us. Even _I_ had learned that when it came to Esme, silence was a lot worse than her trying to make her way into our lives. It probably meant that she was plotting something, and I was afraid to think about what it was.

Angela placing my cappuccino and muffin in front of me interrupted my train of thought.

"Ugh, I'm beat." I smiled up at her. "My feet are killing me."

"Tell me about it," she huffed, sitting across from me and placing her legs on an empty chair. "These new shoes gave me damn blisters, but at least I got to buy myself a nice dress."

I took a sip of my hot drink and sighed. "This is nice. I love summers in Chicago."

"Well, summers here are definitely much nicer than summers in Forks where it rains all the time."

"I couldn't agree more," I said, bringing a piece of muffin to my mouth and glancing at the busy street. "You know, Edward's office isn't far from here."

"How do you know?" She stirred her latte slowly, her chin resting in her palm. "You've never been to his office."

"He told me, obviously. I was thinking about calling him, maybe he can take a break and join us for coffee."

She shrugged. "Then call him."

And I did just that. On the third ring, a busy-sounding feminine voice greeted me.

"Mr. Cullen's phone. What can I help you with?"

"Who's this?" I inquired, my brow furrowing.

"I'm Victoria, Mr. Cullen's assistant," she replied automatically, a hint of annoyance lacing her tone. "What can I help you with?"

"Is Mr. Cullen around? I would like to speak with him."

"No, he's in a meeting and he forgot his cell phone on my desk. Can I take a message?"

"No, it's okay. I'll call later. Thank you."

Her only answer was a long beeping sound.

"Well, that was rude," I muttered, staring at my phone dumbfounded.

"What was?" Angela asked.

I looked up at her blankly. "His assistant just hung up on me."

"Bitch," she concluded, shoving a piece of blueberry muffing into her mouth. "So, I take it he's busy?"

"Yeah, she said he's in a meeting."

Angela narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What if she was lying? You know, maybe she's one of those assistants who has a crush on her hot boss and feels threatened by you. Do you want to go to his office and check if she was telling the truth?"

"No." I chuckled at her crazy idea. "I trust Edward. Besides, I don't even know the exact address. I just know that he works in the area."

"Suit yourself, but if I were you, I would question him about this assistant of his. What's her name?"

"Victoria."

"Yeah." She nodded firmly. "I would definitely question him about this _Victoria _chick."

I tossed my napkin at her playfully. "You're insane."

She grinned. "I know."

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

We both looked up in time to see James standing beside our table with a smirk on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and had a messenger bag tossed over one shoulder.

"Oh, shit," Angela whispered, looking at me with an air of panic. "I guess it's a good thing Edward's busy, huh?"

"Hello, Bella," James said, his dark irises taking me in almost greedily, making my skin crawl in the process. "Angela."

"Hey." Angela waved weakly. She knew the proverbial shit was about to hit the fan.

"Can I join you?" he asked, already reaching for the chair next to me.

"No," I said, but he ignored me, sitting down anyway.

He sighed, placing his bag at his feet. "Look, I don't know what Cullen told you about me, but I'm not the bad guy. _He_'s the one who put my cousin in a coffin."

"What do you mean?" I huffed, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

He rushed to explain. "Tanya got sick because of his stupid obsession with having children. She used to be such a fun, lively person, but when she found out that she couldn't get pregnant, she started changing. She became someone her own parents didn't recognize anymore, always sad, depressed, irritated. Not to mention that she and Edward fought all the time."

"How would you know that, James?" I argued, annoyed. "You and Tanya weren't exactly close when she got sick."

"Her parents told me. They were scared for her. Then, one day when Edward was on a short business trip to New York, I went to their house. Tanya was a mess. I tried to convince her to divorce him, but she wouldn't listen to me. She was absolutely blinded by the love she _thought_ she had for him. She kept insisting that she was a horrible wife; that she had failed her husband and she could never forgive herself for that."

"That's crazy. Why would she feel guilty for something that she had no control over?"

James' expression darkened. "Because he made her feel guilty. He made her feel unworthy of him. He's a fucking monster, and I sincerely wish that you don't end up just like my poor cousin."

"That's enough!" I snapped, jumping to my feet. "I won't listen to this."

"Okay, okay." He quickly grabbed my wrist. "I'll shut up. Sit down."

I yanked my hand way, reaching for my bag. "We should be going anyway."

"You barely touched your drink," he noticed.

"I don't care for it anymore," I hissed, motioning for Angela to get up.

"I'm sorry if I what I said offended you, but it angers me when he tries to make me look like the bad guy, when in fact he's the disgusting leech sucking the life out of the women who have the misfortune of ending up in his bed," he said, leaning back into his chair and staring up at me pointedly. "Do you know what happened to his girlfriend before Tanya?"

When I showed the first sign of confusion, he went on, "She got hit by a car and died. And you know when it happened? The same night he broke up with her. She killed herself because of him, Bella."

"That's not true," I said, although I had no idea if what he said was a lie or not, but I made a mental note to ask Edward about it when I saw him.

He shook his head like he couldn't believe me. "You are so naïve. He's going to ruin your life, and you'd better run away while you still can."

I turned my back on him and started to walk away, my coffee and muffin long forgotten. "Let's go, Angela," I called over my shoulder, not wanting to look at him again.

"What the hell has gotten into him?" Angela commented, genuinely surprised as we rushed across the street to the car. "I've never seen him so angry about something."

"Let's just go home," I said, hating that he had managed to put a damper on my day.

_~~ 0 ~~_

Once at home, I tossed my shoes and bag to the floor haphazardly and willed myself not to think about James' words anymore.

"I need to put this somewhere so Edward doesn't stumble upon it," I said absentmindedly, holding the neatly wrapped present.

"I'll keep it in my room," Angela offered, looking at me apprehensively. She could see that our encounter with James had affected me more than I wanted to let on.

"Okay. Good idea." I handed it to her, starting to head over to the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower."

As I stepped under the warm spray of water, I closed my eyes and let myself relax. After a few minutes of leaning with my palms against the cold tile, I grabbed the shampoo and started massaging my hair. When I was done, I took my time washing my body and shaving my legs, and by the time I was done, more than half an hour must have passed.

I wrapped a towel around my hair and a larger one around my body and leaned down to search for the foot cream I kept under the vanity along with some other toiletries. In my search, I stumbled upon a still intact box of tampons, and I frowned, picking it up and staring at it. Something felt off about it, and I began to mentally calculate when I was supposed to have my period, only to realize that I was a few days late.

With the tampons still in my hand, I left the bathroom and walked towards Angela's bedroom. She was standing in front of her mirror, admiring her new dress.

"This is strange," I said, shaking the box in front of her.

"What is?" She glanced at it in confusion. "I'm still using condoms, and I'm not late if that's what you're about to suggest."

"No, but I am."

She looked perplexed. "Aren't you on the pill? You're not supposed to be late."

"I know."

"So you're saying that you're pregnant?" she asked, blinking rapidly.

"Don't be silly. I can't be pregnant," I said with a nervous laugh. "I take my pill religiously."

"Uh, then why is your period late?"

"How should I know?" I shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant, although on the inside I was having my doubts, but I was doing my best to push them to the back of my mind. "It's only been a few days, so…"

"But what if you're pregnant?" Angela insisted.

"I'm not pregnant, Ang," I stressed, willing my heart to stop galloping. "I can't be."

She didn't seem to buy it. "Have you had any unusual symptoms like nausea, headaches, fatigue?"

"Well, I've been feeling a bit tired lately," I admitted, "but that's about it."

"Nonetheless, you should take a test. You can never be too sure about these things."

I sighed heavily. "I'll tell you what. If by Monday I don't get my period, I'll take a test."

"Okay," she said, giving me a dubious look. "Whatever you say, Bella."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Later that same day, Edward and I were in the kitchen, chatting. Angela was working the night shift again, so I had him to keep me company. I was at the counter, chopping vegetables for the dinner I was making, while Edward was sitting at the kitchen table, skimming through that day's newspaper.

I had decided not to tell him about my delayed period, because I was still refusing to accept the possibility of a pregnancy, especially since I had no symptoms. Trying to direct my thoughts in another direction, I brought up my brief conversation with his assistant.

"I called your cell phone today and your assistant Victoria answered. She was kind of rude. She hung up on me."

"She did?" Edward asked, sounding surprised.

"Yeah," I confirmed, slicing a carrot.

"I'll have to talk to her about it."

I turned around to face him with the knife still in my hand. "But she knows I'm your girlfriend, right?"

He eyed the knife apprehensively. "No."

"No?" I repeated with an edge to my voice, pointing the sharp utensil at him. "You mean she doesn't know there's someone in your life?"

"No, she doesn't. I don't exactly discuss my personal life with my…" he started saying, but trailed off when he saw the look I was giving him. "Why are you frowning?"

"Well, I don't want her to think that you're _available_," I hissed, my already bad mood escalating. "What if she hits on you?"

"She knows that if she ever dares flirting with me, she'll be fired on spot. I made that clear the day I hired her."

"Oh really?" I narrowed my eyes at him menacingly.

"Yes, really. What's the matter with you today? When I arrived, you yelled at me because I forgot to buy bread, and now you're throwing a jealousy fit?"

Blood started rising up to my cheeks in embarrassment immediately. "Oh. I guess I didn't realize I was being such a bitch."

"I didn't say that, but I just don't understand your reaction to Victoria," he said, standing up and walking over to me. He took the knife from me and placed it on the chopping board as a smile tugged at his lips. "Is it that time of the month, is that why are you being so irascible?"

"No," I murmured as he leaned down and kissed me gently. A lump formed in my throat, and I wrapped my arms around him, forcing myself not to start crying.

"Is it true your girlfriend before Tanya killed herself?" I blurted out in an attempt to distract my mind from pregnancy thoughts.

"What?" He pulled back to look at me incredulously. "Who told you that?"

"James. I ran into him at a coffee shop today, and he started accusing you of the most horrible things."

He let go of me, walking over to the window and grabbing a fistful of reddish hair. "That motherfucker's gut knows no limits. Is he stalking you in coffee shops now?"

"So, is it true?" I gasped. "She killed herself?"

"Of course it's not true," Edward snapped, glaring at me. "The girl got hit by a car and died."

"Yeah, but it happened the same night you broke up with her," I argued, using James' words.

"Yes, but she didn't kill herself. It was an unfortunate accident."

"What if she was hurting so badly that-"

He cut me off angrily. "The driver was drunk, Isabella. She was coming from the store when he ran her over on the pedestrian crossing."

"Then why did James-" I started saying, but he cut me off again.

"He hates me. He'll say anything to make you leave me. Did you know that he even tried to convince Tanya to divorce me?"

I nodded, biting on my lower lip. "Yeah, he mentioned it. He said you're the reason she got sick."

"At her funeral, he accused me of pressuring her to give me a child, which is absolutely insane. I would never do that. When I found out that she couldn't get pregnant, I proposed adoption, but she refused."

"I know you loved her," I tried to comfort him, but he only seemed to get angrier.

"James' accusations are meant to hurt our relationship. You do realize that, don't you? God, I'm so sick of him."

"I know," I said, approaching him carefully and circling his neck with my arms. "But we won't let him get to us. I promise you."

After a moment, he let out a heavy sigh, hugging me back. I started sniffing, the tears I had been trying to suppress trailing down my cheeks hot and wet.

"Why are you crying?" Edward asked, placing his large hands on each side of face. "What is it?"

"I don't know," I confessed, because I truly had no clue as to why I was being such an emotional mess.

_~~ 0 ~~_

By Monday afternoon, panic had really started to set in. My period was still very much MIA, and I was freaking out. At work I was so distracted that I had almost sold a school atlas at twice its price. By five, I was going crazy with worry, and I had to fake a migraine so I could leave earlier.

On my way home, I almost hit another car and got cursed at in traffic, but I couldn't bring myself to care. Frantically, I parked the car in its usual spot and ran to the closest pharmacy to buy a couple of pregnancy tests.

Just as I stormed into the apartment, all sweaty and out of breath, Angela stepped out of the kitchen with a glass of lemonade in her hand.

"What's wrong?" she asked, getting wide-eyed. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm starting to freak out," I said, panting. "I didn't get my period today."

"Did you buy a pregnancy test yet?"

"Yeah, I did, two of them." I held the bag up, discarding my red flats hastily. "Oh, God. What if I really am pregnant?"

"Hey, calm down," she soothed, handing me the lemonade. "If you say you've been taking your pill regularly, there's no way in hell you're pregnant, alright? Let's just… chill."

"Okay, okay." I took it from her and downed it greedily. "Deep breaths, Bella. Deep breaths."

Taking the bag with me, I rushed towards the bathroom and locked the door behind me. With shaky hands, I opened the first test and sat on the toilet with it between my legs.

I had to wait a while until my body was ready to eliminate the lemonade I had just drank, and then I had to stop myself for a few seconds in order to get the other stick and pee on it as well.

When I was done, I flushed, washed my hands and opened the door to call for Angela.

"I don't want to look," I said when the minutes were up. "You do it."

Angela reached for the first stick, but I stopped her. "No, no, wait," I squeaked, my fists clenching at my sides. I took a few more deep breaths that had no calming effect whatsoever then urged her on. "Okay, you can look now."

Watching her face as she grabbed the test and looked down at it seemed to happen in slow motion. One second her expression was neutral, and the other, her eyes became the size of saucers as her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, fuck."

"What?" I croaked huskily. "What?"

She looked absolutely shocked. "It's positive."

As her words registered in my head, I was barely aware of a phone ringing furiously in the distance.

"No…" I shook my head in disbelief, yanking the plastic stick from her. "Give me that."

"Bella…" she started tentatively.

"No, it can't be," I gritted, although I was seeing with my own eyes the two pink lines that were staring back at me defiantly.

"Bella, they're both positive," Angela said softly. "I'm sorry."

I threw the test to the floor like I had been burnt. "Oh my God," I cried, agitating my hands frantically in front of me. "Oh my God, what have I done?"

"It's not your fault, Bella."

"How the fuck did this happen?" I yelled at her, getting hysterical. "I've been so careful. I don't understand."

"Please, try to calm down."

"How can I calm down, Angela? God, do you know what this means? How am I going to finish school, for fuck's sake?"

"Hey!" she yelled back at me. "Don't go lunatic on me now, okay? First, let's find out how this happened. Where are your pills?"

"I don't know." I sniffed loudly, plopping down on the tile floor because my legs were trembling so badly they couldn't support my weight anymore. "I think they're in my bag."

Spinning on her heels, she exited the room only to come back seconds later with a familiar white foil. "Well, you seem to have taken them all," she said, analyzing it attentively. "There are only placebo pills here."

"I haven't skipped any pills, I…" I trailed off abruptly as revelation hit me. "Oh, no."

"What is it?" she urged, sitting on her knees beside me. "What did you remember?"

"Do you recall last month when I had that nasty cold?"

"Yeah."

"I don't remember taking the pill during those days."

"But you had your period last month," she pointed out.

"Yeah, that's why this makes no sense. Although, it was a bit lighter than usual…"

Angela scowled, staring down at the foil in her hand. "Did you and Edward have sex when you had the cold?"

"Yeah, we did. He said something about sex building up the immune system, and it did help with my cold, but I hadn't been taking my pill. How could I forget? How could I be so stupid?"

"You weren't exactly yourself. An illness can make you forget things." She rubbed my upper arms comfortingly. "On the good side, Edward is going to be ecstatic."

"But what about me?" I snapped, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. "I'm not ready to be a mother, Angela. I still have my Masters left. How am I going to manage to finish school and raise a newborn baby at the same time?"

"I'm sorry. I really am."

"What are you sorry for? It's not your fault. I'm the only one to blame. God, I'm such a cretin."

"A baby should be a blessing not a burden," she whispered as to herself, getting up and holding her arm outstretched. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

As she helped me undress because I was too much of a mess to function, my phone began ringing again. Pulling my jeans down my legs, she tossed them on a chair and reached into my bag for the noisy object.

"It's Edward," she said. "Do you want me to answer it?"

I shook my head, holding my hand out. Grabbing a tissue from the nightstand, I quickly blew my nose and forced myself to stop crying before answering with a low "hi".

"Hello, my love," Edward greeted cheerfully. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," I lied, staring up at the ceiling. "Did you want something?"

"What's wrong?" his voice changed, becoming grave all of the sudden. "You sound like you have been crying."

"I'll tell you later," I retorted weakly, wiping a stray tear with my thumb.

"Isabella' you're scaring me. What happened?"

"Nothing."

He sighed. "Isabella…"

"I'll tell you later this evening when I come to your place, okay? I have to go now."

"Do you want me to pick you up?" he rushed to ask. "Do you want me to come right now?"

"No, no, it's okay. See you later."

With those final words, I hung up and collapsed against the pillows, letting the tears fall freely. The phone started ringing again, but I ignored it. Angela left the room quietly, leaving me to my thoughts. She knew I needed to be alone, and I was grateful for her diplomacy.

Lying there, I couldn't help but think about what my future was going to look like. I was expecting a baby with a man whose mother hated me; I had two more years left of school, and on top of all that, I was nowhere near ready to become a parent.

I knew Edward was probably going to be happy about it, but what about me? I needed to put my life in order before taking such a huge step towards motherhood. I wanted to get married, share a nice house with my husband and taste the success of a career first.

This was so unexpected and definitely not happening the way I had always envisioned it would.

I loved Edward. I loved him with all my heart, but getting pregnant at this time of my life was just so wrong. I needed more time. _We_ needed more time. We had to work things out with his family and we had to get to know each other better. What if something went wrong with his family that drove us apart? What was going to happen to this child?

A million thoughts plagued my mind and most of them were not happy. I was scared of what the future had in store for us, but mostly I was afraid that I wasn't going to be a good mother because I just wasn't prepared for that.

_~~ 0 ~~_

It must have been half an hour later when I heard the front door open and the sound of heavy shoes heading my way. Edward appeared in the doorway, looking as if he was about to have an aneurysm. He was panting like he had run up the stairs instead of taking the elevator; his hair was disheveled as if he had abused it with his long fingers all day long, while his green irises were darker and more alert than I had ever seen them.

At the sight of him, I felt as if the entire room started spinning with me, and I began crying even harder than I had until then.

"Isabella," his voice broke as he sat on the edge of the bed and took my hands into his. "Tell me."

"I'm pregnant," I whispered, but I didn't have time to see his reaction because a wave of nausea overcame me and I leaned over the bed, emptying my stomach all over his expensive Italian shoes.

* * *

><p><strong>AN How will **_**Bedward**_** (as a reader named him) react to the news? Find out next chapter!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~Andreea~**


	22. Chapter 21: Enraptured

**A/N Remember president Obama dancing on Ellen's show? Yeah? Good. If not, you can check out the video on youtube. **

**Also, I want to thank my beta Nikki and pre-reader Jen for making my words look prettier :-) I flove them both.**

**Enjoy **_**Bedward**_**'s reaction at finding out he's gonna be a daddy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 21<strong>

**Edward Pov**

* * *

><p><em>~ June 11<em>_th__, 2012 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

As I sat there, staring at my shoes that were now covered in vomit, I had a hard time grasping the importance of Isabella's words.

Had she actually uttered them or was it just my imagination playing tricks on me?

Was my desire of becoming a father so big that now I was hearing things?

Had I gone insane?

Was it a dream?

But no, it couldn't have been a dream. I could clearly remember being in my office and speaking with her over the phone. I could hear the distress in her voice… the fear. When I had asked her what was wrong, she said she was going to tell me later. After she had hung up, I became agitated and called her again. She hadn't answered. I'd called Angela and she told me to get there as soon as possible. And I had flown out of my chair, ignoring my father yelling something intelligible after me.

No, it was definitely not a dream and I hadn't heard her wrong. She was pregnant.

But how?

It must have been an accident, because judging by her reaction, she was not happy about it. In fact, she looked absolutely distraught.

This wasn't right. It wasn't supposed to happen this way.

And I was torn. I wanted to sympathize with her, but my heart was screaming at me that I should be ecstatic about the news. It was my prerogative to be excited about the pregnancy, because I had waited so long for this to happen. For many years, I had longed for this child with all my being. Accident or not, I had gotten my wish and I would have been a hypocrite to complain about the timing.

But I knew this wasn't what Isabella wanted, and it pained me to see her so upset about it. She was still very young and had plans for her life that didn't include an unexpected pregnancy. However, there was nothing that could be done about it, and we both had to face the situation and try to make the best of it.

My mind was reeling with all the things that had to be done. There were factors that needed to be taken into consideration, and we had a lot to talk about, but for now, my priority was to take care of her. I had to pull myself together and calm her down.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, wiping her mouth and avoiding my gaze. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," I said, pulling her in a sitting position. "It's okay. Let's get you to the bathroom." Standing up, I leaned down and took her into my arms while calling over my shoulder for Angela.

She showed up immediately, her eyes widening when she saw the mess on the floor.

"Can you help clean this up, please?" I said hurriedly, not waiting for her answer as I carried Isabella past her and into the bathroom.

I sat her down in front of the sink and turned on the faucet. Still crying, she began rising her mouth before splashing water over her face with trembling hands.

Grabbing the toilet paper, I wiped off my shoes the best I could before discarding them on the tile floor next to the bathtub. Dealing with vomit wasn't pretty, but given the fact that Isabella was pregnant, I knew I had to start getting used to it.

_Pregnant._

It was still hard to believe this was actually happening.

"I'm sorry I ruined your shoes." She sniffed, keeping one hand on the sink for support as she used the other to dab her face with a towel.

"I don't care about the shoes, Isabella," I said, making my way to her and placing my hands on her waist. "I only care about you. Do you need me to get you anything?"

She shook her head. "No, I just want to go back to bed."

As I carried her back to her room, Angela was just finishing wiping the floor with a mop. She left quietly, closing the door behind her.

I placed Isabella on the bed then began removing my suit jacket and tie. She got under the covers, and I tossed the tie and jacket on her desk chair before sliding in beside her. We both lay on our sides, facing each other, but her head was angled downwards, her gaze focusing on anything but my face.

"Is it true? I asked softly, lifting her chin up so she would look at me.

She nodded; her lower lip quivering as she answered. "I'm pregnant."

"How did it happen?"

"I forgot to take some of my pills."

"Are you upset about it?" I said stupidly, my hand moving from her face down to her upper arm where I rubbed her skin with my thumb.

"Isn't it obvious?" She sniffed, using her fingers to wipe her puffy eyes of tears. "I'm not ready to be a mother, Edward. I'm just not ready, okay?"

She sounded so devastated that the darkest of thoughts suddenly clouded my mind.

"Please tell me you're not thinking about abortion, because I won't accept it," I said, my voice taking a sharper tonality. This was _my_ child as well, and I had no intention of giving him or her up, no matter how Isabella felt about being pregnant.

She was quiet for a moment, but then shook her head. "No, no, of course I'm not. I would never do that. But I'm so scared." As she said the last word, her voice broke and she began to cry a bit harder.

I sighed, part in relief, part in lamentation for the situation we were in. Inching closer to her, I ran my fingers through her hair in what I hoped to be a soothing manner.

"What are you so scared about, baby?"

"I'm scared that I won't be able to focus on school, that I'll never be able to have a career, that something is going to happen with your family that's going to drive us apart…" she trailed off, her hands finding the front of my shirt as her forehead pressed against my collarbone.

"First of all, you _are _going to be able to focus on school and you _will_ have a career if that's what you want. I promise you that. You can quit your job at the bookstore and focus your entire attention on your Master's. Then when the baby comes, we'll hire a full time nanny. As for my family, I'll never allow them to drive us apart."

"What if I'm not going to be a good mother?"

"You're going to be a great mother," I assured her, an involuntary smile tugging at my lips. If there was one woman out there born to be a mother, that woman was Isabella. She was caring, devoted, selfless and one of the most beautiful and pure souls I had met in my entire life. Too young or not, she was going to make one heck of a parent.

"How do you know that?" she inquired suspiciously.

"I just know it."

She sniffed again, and I reached behind me on the nightstand for the box of tissues that was lying there. She grabbed one and blew her nose noisily then gazed up at me with large fearful eyes.

"But are we ready for this, Edward?" she croaked. "Are we ready for a baby? Is our relationship strong enough to survive family drama and this at the same time?"

"Yes, I think we're ready and I also think that you worry too much," I said sincerely.

"Maybe I do worry too much, but I can't help it," she admitted with a staggered sigh. "Are you happy?"

I grinned, the enthusiasm I've been suppressing slowly beginning to surface. "Yes, I am. I'm so happy, I feel like doing a happy dance right now."

She chuckled huskily, wiping a few more tears away. "Do it. I want to see you doing a happy dance."

"Is that a dare?" I asked playfully.

"Yeah, it is."

"Alright, I accept."

Fully aware of the fact that I was about to embarrass myself, I got up from the bed, intent on lifting her mood. She watched me curiously, her dark hair spilling all over the white pillow as her bloodshot eyes followed my every move.

Spreading my legs some, I began moving my hips and arms from side to side in the same fashion I had once seen Obama dance on a TV show. I had no music, my dancing skills were pretty rusty and I was willing to bet that Obama had done a much better job than me, but my little artistic moment gained me the most beautiful sound I'd heard the entire day. Isabella started laughing, a few snorts escaping her as she sat up and reached for another tissue to blow her nose again.

"Do you like my dancing skills?" I asked with a laugh of my own as I finished with a pelvic move a la Elvis.

"I can't believe you just did that," she breathed when I retook my place beside her seconds later.

I chuckled, leaning down to kiss her softly. "Thank you."

"What are you thanking me for?"

"Only for making me the happiest man alive," I murmured, my hand drifting lower until it rested on her stomach. "God, I can't wait to see your stomach grow."

I could almost envision her, heavy with my child and round in all the right places, and a wave of desperate longing came crashing down on me. I wanted this baby so badly it hurt to think about the fact that I had to wait nine torturous months until I was able to hold my son or daughter in my arms.

Isabella groaned, covering my hand with hers. "Ugh, I'm going to get so fat. Will you, gym freak, still love me when I'm the size of China?"

"I'll always love you, no matter what you look like," I said, pressing my lips to her a bit more firmly. "And I've never seen an ugly pregnant woman. All pregnant women are beautiful."

"You're just saying that because you want to be a father so badly. We'll see how attractive you still find me when I ask you to rub my ass with anti-cellulite cream."

I smiled at her indulgently. She had no idea how much I was going to love seeing her body transform; how much I was going to enjoy her new curves born out of the most beautiful metamorphosis life had to offer.

However, my optimistic train of thought was interrupted by her next comment.

"We need to tell your mother. I mean, _you_ need to tell your mother. Maybe she's calmed down in the two months you've been giving her the silent treatment."

_My mother. _

For a moment, I had allowed myself to forget all about her.

It had been quite some time since I had last spoken to her, and I had to admit that the fact that she had accepted my decision of breaking off ties with her without even putting up a fight made me nervous. She wasn't the kind of person to give up that easily, and I was reluctant to try and decipher the meaning of this new strategy she seemed to have developed.

"I doubt it, but hope dies last, right?" I said with a heavy sigh.

"Yeah. Maybe by now she's desperate enough that she's willing to get over her aversion to me."

"We're both being so naïve. I would love nothing more than for her to accept our relationship, but I just don't know if it's ever going to happen." I pulled Isabella closer and she rested her head on my chest.

"But I'm going to give it a try. I'll call her tomorrow, because it's the right thing to do. She needs to know that she's going to be a grandmother again and it's better if I tell her myself. All we can do is hope that she's going to see reason and make things right for the sake of her grandchild."

Isabella hummed in agreement, and we both grew silent for a minute in which only the steady sound of our breathings could be heard.

She was the one to speak again. "So, I guess now would be a good time to move in with you."

"Yes, I think it's the best time for us to start living together."

She let out a long breath, something between a sigh and a huff, and I craned my neck to the side only to see that she was scowling, her tears now dried on her pale skin.

"What?" I asked, confused.

She looked up at me, her frown deepening. "It's just… it bugs me so badly that we're not even married and we're going to have a baby."

"We can get married anytime you want," I offered, but even to my own ears it sounded wrong. I loved her and I wanted nothing more than to make her my wife, but we had to refrain from making sudden decisions out of desperation.

She shook her head, a sad expression making its way to her face. "It wouldn't be right. We'd only be doing it because of the baby and I don't want that."

"Tell you what. Let's give it until next year. That way we'll have enough time to see how our relationship evolves during the pregnancy. If it were up to me, I would marry you tomorrow, but I know it's better if we wait."

"I would love to marry you, Edward," she murmured, her expression softening as her palm cupped my cheek. "But I really do think it's better if we wait until next year to take marriage into consideration. We need to take it one step at a time."

"I love you," I whispered, capturing her lips between mine.

"I love you, too," she replied between kisses, a solitary tear escaping the corner of her left eye. "So much."

I continued holding her to me for a long time. As some point our position reversed, and I ended up lying between her parted legs with my ear and hands glued to her still flat stomach. Out of instinct, I began humming a random song that I had heard over the radio that morning when I was heading for the office.

"What are you doing?" Isabella asked sleepily. She had her fingers buried deep into my hair and was looking down at me through heavy lids.

"I'm singing to him," I said with a sheepish smile.

She chuckled. "Oh, it's a he already?"

"Well, I would hate to refer to my own child as 'it', so for now, I'm going to pretend it's a he."

She stroked my hair gently. "Do you have any preferences regarding the baby's sex?"

"No," I replied immediately. "I'll love him or her equally."

She gave me a tentative smile, and I went back to humming.

"He can't hear you, you know," she pointed out as I began rubbing her bare stomach in sync with my singing. "He's barely an embryo."

"I don't care," I retorted, cocking my head to the side so that I could examine better the part of her my hands were exploring. "Now that I look closer, I can actually see a small bump."

"No, you can't," she contradicted. "I don't have a bump yet."

"You do if you look at it sideways," I said, fascinated by the way her stomach swelled with every deep inhale.

"You're starting to see things," she said amusedly. "Just shut up and keep humming, maybe I'll fall asleep."

_~~ 0 ~~_

The next morning as I slid undetected from Isabella's embrace, I felt like a new man. Something had shifted inside of me, and I could barely contain my happiness as I climbed into my car and headed home to get ready for work.

I was seeing the world with different eyes and I had to admit that I had never felt like this before. It was an entirely new emotion that couldn't be compared with anything else. Overnight, the notion that I was going to be a father had finally registered in my head and the enthusiasm that came with it was overwhelming.

I wanted to scream from the top of my lungs that my girlfriend was pregnant, and a couple of times I had to stop myself from rolling down my window and doing so.

I cut off another driver in traffic and when he gave me the finger at the next red light, I just grinned stupidly at him. He began muttering under his breath, most probably curses addressed to me, and I could have kissed him; I was so far gone.

The weather was rainy, large droplets of water falling from the cloudy sky, but to me, it was the most glorious morning of my life.

I hadn't even slept the night before; the excitement that came with the wonderful news had kept me from getting any rest. But it didn't matter, because I felt reinvigorated.

After a quick shower and cereal breakfast, I got dressed and climbed back into the car to head for the office. When I arrived, Victoria was at her desk, typing something at her computer.

"Morning," she greeted, smiling up at me.

I smiled back widely, transferring my briefcase from one had to the other. "Good morning. My girlfriend's pregnant so I'm going to need you to order a flower arrangement and send it to her house, because I forgot to stop by the flower shop on my way here. I'm thinking white and pink lilies. Make sure they add a nice card to it. Oh, and also send her a box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates. She loves them."

"What?" she said dumbfounded, gaping at my rambling.

"Oh yes, you need the address," I said, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen from her desk and writing it down quickly. "Here, make sure she gets them by noon. Her name is Isabella Swan. And bring me my coffee and one of those chocolate muffins from the pastry shop across the street. I feel like having something sweet."

Leaving a completely discombobulated Victoria behind, I stepped into my office and sat on the couch near the window, pulling out my phone and typing a text message to Isabella.

_**Yesterday still feels like a dream, a very vivid one that is. I love you and I can't wait to see you again this evening. Enjoy the chocolates.**_

When I was done, I shoved the phone back into my pocket and moved to sit at my desk, trying to focus on work instead of Isabella and failing horribly. About noon, there was a knock at the door and Emmett stepped in looking sharp in a gray suit and brown leather shoes.

"Hey," he said, coming to stand on the other side of the desk.

My eyebrows rose in surprise at seeing him there since he rarely came into my office anymore. "Is there something wrong with the file I sent you?"

"No." He sighed, pulling out a chair across from me and sitting down. "I'm here to speak to you about Mom."

I frowned, taking off my glasses and leaning back into my seat. "Whatever it is you have to say, I don't want to hear it, Emmett."

"Why the fuck do you have to be such a jerk to her?" he snapped, his eyes narrowing. "It's been two moths now. She's a fucking mess because you refuse to talk to her."

"I need to stand my ground so she knows I meant it when I said that if she can't accept Isabella she'll lose me as a son."

"Jesus Christ, Edward." He shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you're doing this for a woman. Is she more important to you than your own family?"

"I love her, Emmett," I replied, trying to stay calm. "She's my family now. I can't afford to lose her because of Mom."

"I'm so tired of this. I can't believe that a woman like her manages to keep you away from us. I thought you were stronger than this."

"What would you have done if Mom was against Rosalie?" I retorted, staring at him intently.

He huffed, his gaze moving to the windows behind me. "It's not the same thing. Mom loves Rose; she loved her from the very beginning."

"See?" I straightened up, pointing a finger at him accusingly. "You always had it so easy. Remember how Mom didn't like Tanya in the beginning? It's like none of the women I bring home are good enough for her."

Emmett looked back at me with a frown. "Mom _learned_ to love Tanya for your sake, but even you have to admit that when you first met her, she was a bit wild."

"So why can't she learn to love Isabella?" I asked, starting to get annoyed despite my efforts to remain calm. "What's the difference between her and Tanya, royal blood?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "She's just so young, man. She's young, alright? I thought you were going to settle down with a woman your age."

I chuckled bitterly. "You speak as if I'm fifty, not thirty-four, going on thirty-five."

"I just don't think that she's going to give you want you want the most."

"What, children?" I snapped, burning holes through his thick skull with my eyes. "She already gave me that."

All of a sudden, all color drained from his face. "What?" he inquired in a low voice. "She's pregnant?"

"Yes, she is," I answered, a strange feeling of utter satisfaction traversing my body from my toes to the hairs on my scalp. For some reason, his shocked expression pleased me to no end.

He was quiet for a minute, only his mouth opening at short intervals as if he wanted to say something but couldn't decide what. Finally he settled for, "And when were you going to tell us?"

I shrugged, grabbing a pen from my desk and starting to play with it as I leaned back in my seat. "I found out yesterday. She has a doctor's appointment on Friday for confirmation."

"So, it wasn't planned?"

"No, she forgot to take some of her pills."

He let out a humorless chuckle, running his large hands up and down the chair's leather arms. "She forgot…"

"Don't even dare implying that she's using this baby to get her hands on my money," I warned, dangling the pen between my forefinger and middle finger.

He didn't say anything, just pinched the bridge of his nose before getting up and starting to head for the door. Halfway, he stopped and turned around to face me again. "Could you at least have the decency to give Mom the news yourself? I really don't want to have to do it."

"I'll tell her."

He hesitated, his wandering eyes landing on the old frame still resting on my desk. The picture of Tanya and me had been replaced with one of Isabella and me in Prague. "So, what, are you going to marry her now?"

"Yes, but not this year. For now, we're going to move in together."

"Yeah, well, good luck with that."

With those final words, he left my office, closing the door behind him quietly.

Sitting there in the large room's deafening silence, I suddenly realized that I hadn't even told my father about the baby. Putting my glasses back on, I rose to my feet and followed after Emmett, heading for my father's office. His assistant wasn't at her desk, so I knocked on his door twice before poking my head inside to see if he was there.

He was standing in front of the large windows overlooking Chicago eating what looked like a club sandwich. He smiled when he saw me, motioning me over with his hand. "Come on in, son."

"I just wanted to give you some news," I said, stopping in front of him and crossing my arms over my chest in an almost defensive stance. "Isabella's pregnant."

Dad stopped mid-chew, seeming to be mulling over my words. "Is she now?"

"Yeah. Look, I know it's a bit too soon for that, but it happened, and I'm glad it did," I rushed to explain. "To be honest, I'm ecstatic about it. I've wanted children for a long time and this is my biggest wish coming true. I just hope that you can be happy for me."

He put his sandwich down and wiped his hands with a tissue all the while his intense blue eyes never leaving mine. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for you. Isabella is a lovely woman. But your mother…" he trailed off, shaking his head.

I sighed. "I know, Dad. She's going to throw a fit."

"She's not well right now, Edward," he said cryptically. "Your argument has affected her more than I thought it would."

My brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

He loosened his tie, leaning against the windowsill, and for the first time in a long while, he actually looked affected when speaking about my mother. "She's become extremely irritated. I can't even mention your name without being the receiver of her wrath."

"I'm sorry, but why didn't you tell me?"

"She's mad at me because I'm taking your side. She wants me to convince you to break it off with Isabella, but that's not an option anymore, is it?"

"No, it's not and it never was."

He nodded in understanding. "I'm afraid of your mother's reaction when she finds out. She's got this blind hate against the poor girl that even I don't understand. I initially thought she was being stubborn, but it's more than that."

"See?" my voice raised on its own accord. "That's why I refuse to speak to her. She's my mother and I love her, but I'm afraid she's going to ruin my relationship with Isabella, and I can't let that happen. Especially not after finding out that out she's carrying my child."

"I understand and I couldn't agree more," he said, patting me on the shoulder sympathetically.

"But I have to tell her about the baby," I added.

"Indeed. It's better that the news comes from your mouth. Why don't you come home with me tonight?"

"No, Dad," I declined. "I'd rather do it by phone."

"Yes," he said after a moment, his gaze focusing outside the window again. "It might be wiser to do so."

As I returned to my office minutes later, my phone vibrated in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see a text message from Isabella.

_**Just woke up to the delivery guy ringing the doorbell. The flowers are lovely, but the smell almost made me throw up. I can't wait to have my way with the chocolate box though. I love you, too. Always will.**_

_~~ 0 ~~_

Just before leaving work, much earlier than usual, I dialed my mother. The phone rang a few times with no answer before going straight to voicemail, and a sense of dread rocked through me. I sat there frozen, staring at the phone in my hand and not knowing whether to try again or wait for her to contact me back. Fortunately, the decision was made for me seconds later when the blue display began flashing eagerly and showing Mother's name.

"Hello?" I answered tentatively, unsure of the mood she was in.

"Edward," she said, her voice eerily calm. "Oh, honey, I'm so glad to hear from you. I was waiting for your call."

Although her words were supposed to express joy, the way she had spoken them sounded robotic, like an overly-rehearsed speech. This was my first cue that something was wrong.

"I'm only calling because I have some news and I think it would be better that you hear it from me," I said

"Did something happen? Don't tell me you broke up with that girl," she replied with an air of indifference, and I noted once again just how odd she sounded.

My mother could be angry bordering on rage. She could be disrespectful, rude and even vulgar. She could even be hypocritical and completely dishonorable when she wanted something badly enough. What she couldn't be was indifferent, and that was the reason why her current attitude alarmed me.

"No, I haven't," I said reluctantly, closing my eyes and bracing myself for her reaction at the news I was just about to give her. "Actually, she's pregnant."

The line was silent for so long that at some point I thought she had abandoned the phone. Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes and was about to speak when she beat me to it.

"What did you say?" she uttered, her voice so low and menacing that I felt a cold shiver electrocute my spine. Her aloofness was suddenly gone. "Please tell me I heard you wrong."

I swallowed hard, shaking my head although she couldn't see me. "No, you heard me right. Isabella's pregnant. Do you think you could try to be civil to her for the sake of your future grandchild?"

"Never! I will despise her for as long as I live and now you've just given me one more reason to do so," she spat, venom dripping from every word.

For a long moment, her hostility rendered me speechless. Gripping the arm of my office chair tightly, I steeled myself for what I was about to say. "Well, in that case you won't be a part of my child's life."

"Can't you see what she's doing? She's manipulating you, Edward. How can you be so stupid?"

"Mother, you're being unreasonable," I gritted, wishing I had the necessary force to break the hard plastic currently in my hand. "Here I am, calling to give you one more chance to make things right, and you still refuse. For Christ's sake, I don't want to choose between you and her, but you're just forcing me."

"You didn't speak to me for two moths," she replied, her voice now trembling with resentment. "That alone tells me you've already made your choice long ago. Why didn't you speak to me, Edward? Why didn't you try to make things right then? Hmmm? Tell me, why?"

I was taken aback by the bitterness resonating in my ear. "I thought you would've learned your lesson if I cut you off from my life for a while. Now I'm offering you the opportunity to leave the past behind and get over your unjustified antipathy for Isabella."

"Learned my lesson? You ungrateful, insolent child!" she yelled. "I don't need you to teach me anything. I know better, and I know that girl is not good for you."

"That girl is going to be my wife one day," I snapped, starting to get angry.

"Over my dead body! I'd rather die than let you marry her, and it's not a threat, it's a promise."

"Do you even hear yourself?" It was my turn to yell as I jumped to my feet and kicked the chair to the side roughly. "Have you gone completely mad? What's gotten into you?"

"You don't know what I've been through these past couple of months, and it's only her fault."

"Are you actually blaming _her_ for _my_ decision?" I said incredulously.

"Yes," she hissed. "I bet she forced that idea into your head."

"That's crazy. I'm sorry, Mother, but I don't recognize you anymore. I know you're able to hold a grudge for the rest of your life, but this is more than that," I said with finality. "I have to go."

"Don't you hang up on me; I'm not done talking to you."

"But I am." I hit the button to end the conversation and had to reign in the urge to smash the phone against the wall.

Feeling the need to take my anger out on something, I grabbed the chair and threw it at the bookshelves. The impact made a terrible crashing sound and one of the wooden shelves gave out, the books and files resting on it spilling to the floor with a loud thud.

Seconds later, the door opened and Victoria peeked from behind it apprehensively. "Something wrong?" she asked, her eyes widening as she took in the mess.

"Get out!" I yelled hoarsely, and she scurried off before I had time to blink.

_~~ 0 ~~_

Isabella greeted me at the door, clad in a pair of barely-there pajamas. She was smiling brightly, but her smile disappeared as soon as she saw my expression.

"Have you called your mother?" she asked carefully, watching as I removed my shoes and suit jacket.

"Yes, I have," I replied curtly, taking off my tie and handing it to her before making my way to her bedroom.

She followed. "And?" She looked at me anxiously, placing the tie on the back of her desk chair. "How did she take it?"

I sighed, lying down on the bed next to her open laptop, and my gaze landed on a page about first time mothers. "She reacted as expected," I answered, picking up the laptop and starting to scroll down the page. "She was furious."

_Your child is a gift from God. But you must be prepared because motherhood is a life changing experience and sacrifices have to be made. _

"Eh. Well, at least you tried." She sounded resigned. "Are you upset? You look upset."

_Whether you are a mother with a newborn baby or just pregnant, no amount of training can ever prepare you for it fully. It's a learning journey._

"I am a bit upset, yes," I replied, a bit distracted by what I was reading.

She came to join me on the bed, and I placed a kiss against her forehead. "I have to confess that her words hurt me more than I thought possible. We never got along, my mother and I, but I never thought we were going to get here."

"What did Emmett say?"

"I think he's actually resigned with the idea. But let's not talk about my family anymore; it's ruining my evening."

"Okay, but you should know that I told Alice and she was really happy about it."

I hummed in approval. "Good. Good."

_Remember that you aren't the only one going through the experiences you are encountering._

Continuing to scroll down, I stumbled upon an interesting title: _10 things that might surprise you about being pregnant._

I began reading out loud so Isabella could hear as well, and that's how I found myself fascinated by the whole pregnancy process and the emotional and physical changes affecting mothers-to-be.

_~~ 0 ~~_

On Friday afternoon, I sat in an uncomfortable chair, holding Isabella's hand as her doctor performed an ultrasound. She had already done a urine test to confirm the pregnancy and a pelvic exam including a Pap smear, and now she was pointing to a gray spot the size of a button surrounded by a black aura.

"See this, Miss Swan?" she asked with a smile. "This is your baby right here."

We both stared in awe at the monitor, and I felt my chest constrict as I took in the unclear image and listened to the faint heartbeat. It all seemed too good to be true, and I had to reign in the childish urge to pinch myself just to make sure it wasn't just a taunting dream. I was looking at my child for the first time; a moment I had dreamed about for so long that somewhere along the road I had lost faith that it was going to happen.

And I hadn't known.

I hadn't known how utterly empty I had been for such a long time.

But now, seeing the miracle with my own eyes, I was starting to believe again.

If there truly was a God, HE had not been punishing me like it had been my stubborn belief after I had lost Tanya. HE had taken from me so HE could give back to me tenfold. HE had taken a life so he could give one.

And I realized that I had always taken things for granted when in fact everything came with a price. The price I'd had to pay was steep, but the joy I felt by looking at that plain hospital monitor, made it all worth it.

Isabella tightened her hold on my hand as she wiped a stray tear with her thumb and gave the doctor a watery smile. "How far along am I?"

"By the measurements and size of the fetus, I would estimate about six or seven weeks, which means you're due somewhere around the end of January."

"How soon can we find out the baby's sex?" I inquired eagerly. My voice broke under the pressure of my emotions that were all over the place, and I had to clear my throat a couple of times.

"This is one of the most common questions I receive from my patients-to-be," the doctor began to explain patiently. "Most future moms undergo an ultrasound at around eighteen to twenty weeks which means about four and a half to five months. Normally, at this stage of pregnancy we can determine the baby's sex, but not always. The position of the baby during the ultrasound is the most important aspect in our ability to tell the baby's sex, and there's no way to influence that."

"How often do I have to come for check ups?" Isabella addressed the doctor, but her eyes were on me, and I could read fear but also excitement in them.

She started wiping Isabella's stomach off the gel she had applied for the ultrasound. "Well, regular check ups are done every four to six weeks since your first appointment. However, near the end of your pregnancy you'll be seen every week or so."

When she was done, she pulled Isabella's tank top back down and launched into a longer explanation.

"Now, since this is your first consultation, it's going to take a while. I need to ask you questions about your health and medical history as well as the medical history of your family that could affect your pregnancy. You will also have your weight, height and blood pressure measured. Several blood tests will be taken so we can check your blood type and Rh factor, your rubella or German measles status and your iron levels. You will also be screened for HIV, syphilis and hepatitis B, unless you specifically opt not to."

It was a lot to take in for a first appointment. By the time we were done, Isabella was famished, and I was tired from waiting so long. We decided to have dinner at the Italian restaurant we both liked so much, and since she said that she felt like driving, I had passed her the keys to the BMW.

I had to admit that being in the passenger seat of my own car wasn't something I liked, but for Isabella I would've sat in the backseat if she asked it of me. As I shifted my gaze from the window to her profile, I saw that there was a small smile playing on her lips. Glancing down, I noticed that her left hand was holding the wheel while her right one was resting on her stomach.

And then I just knew. Despite all her fears and my family issues, we were going to be alright.

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><p><strong>AN Thanks for reading!**

**~ Andreea ~**


	23. Chapter 22: Stupefied

**A/N Please make sure to visit the group on Facebook. You can find teasers for upcoming chapters and a lot of interesting theories regarding Esme's behavior.**

**I'm really, **_**really**_** sorry for not replying to your reviews for the previous chapter, but I promise I read them all, like I always do. They were very much appreciated!**

**Sorry for any spelling errors that might have escaped my notice when editing. My beta and pre-reader always do an amazing job, so they're all mine.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 22<strong>

**Isabella Pov**

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><p><em>~ June 15<em>_th__, 2012 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

The impact was so sudden that I didn't even have time to react and hit the breaks. The car shook violently before spinning in a half-circle, and a deafening thud echoed in my ears as metal crashed against metal.

It all happened in a matter of seconds.

One moment I was watching the road ahead and listening to Celine Dion sing about the power of love, and the other I was going through the shock of my life. The collision triggered the airbags, and I was jolted forward, my face hitting the cushiony material as my knees came in contact with the lower part of the dashboard.

I moaned in pain, my legs suddenly going numb as the airbag began deflating as quickly as it had inflated. Thin dust particles penetrated the air as an acrid smell made its presence known, and I started coughing, forcing myself to lean back against the seat.

I could hear Edward call my name from beside me, but I was too shocked to react right away. I just sat there, breathing heavily and staring at the still intact windshield with wide blank eyes.

My first errant thought was that my parents had died in a car crash. I could still visualize their totaled Chevy lying on the side of the road and the traces of blood and broken glass all over the gray asphalt. I hadn't slept for weeks after the accident; horrible nightmares plaguing my restless slumber and making the ache in my chest grow with each passing night.

And now, almost seven years later, it was happening to me. My hands flew to my stomach automatically; the mere possibility of losing the baby made me want to scream from the top of my lungs.

My reaction at finding out I was pregnant hadn't been a positive one. I had been angry at myself for missing the pills and scared for what the future had in store for me. But after days of trying to cope with the idea and actually seeing the baby during the ultrasound, this pregnancy was actually growing on me.

I never thought I would ever feel the way I felt when I heard the faint heartbeat for the first time. That little thing growing inside of me was actually real and it was the result of the love Edward and I shared. How could I not love it when I could barely tear my eyes away from the monitor? It was _mine_. It was a part of me as much as it was a part of Edward. We had actually _created_ another human being that was going to depend on us for many years to come.

It was _our _baby. _Ours._

Looking down, I checked for any traces of blood that could indicate a spontaneous miscarriage. The simple thought was frightening, and I let out a sigh of relief when I noticed that my jeans weren't presenting any red stains. Tentatively, I pressed lightly around my stomach to look for painful spots, but there weren't any. I was in the clear. At least for now.

"Isabella!" Edward called again, his voice distressed. "Isabella, are you okay? What's wrong? Is it your stomach? Does it hurt?"

"No, no, I just…" I trailed off, glancing over at him. He was staring at me, wearing a horrified expression. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure you're not hurt?" he stressed.

I nodded, my throat suddenly feeling extremely dry. "I hit my knees against the dashboard and my right wrist is kind of sore, but other than that I'm fine."

"Let me see," he said, reaching over to take my hand in his. The area around the wrist was already starting to swell, and I frowned, gently pulling my hand back.

"I'll be fine," I reassured him, although it was really starting to hurt. "How about you? Are you hurt?"

"No," he replied quietly, but his gaze was now focused on the other driver who was just getting out of his car.

I sighed, going back to examining my wrist and wondering whether I had broken a bone or it was just a sprain. All of a sudden, the passenger door opened and Edward bolted out, heading for the one responsible for the accident. I watched stunned as he drew his fist back and hit the other guy straight in the nose, causing him to double over his damaged car. Letting out a gasp, I forced the driver's door open and got out as fast as I could.

"Edward, cut it out!" I yelled, running over to them. My hand and knees hurt like hell, but I ignored the pain the best I could.

One eyewitness had quickly stepped in and was holding back a struggling Edward while an old woman was making sure the other driver was alright. She helped him up in a standing position, and I saw that his nose was bleeding.

He was young, probably no more than twenty, had a bright-red Mohawk on top of his head, black stud earrings in each of his ears and three ring piercings in his right brow. His car was an expensive looking forest-green Camaro that actually looked less damaged than Edward's BMW.

We were in an intersection, and it seemed like he had run a red light and crashed into us.

"I'm sorry!" he lamented, holding his nose and glancing in Edward's direction apprehensively. "I'm so sorry, man, but I didn't even see the red light."

"You didn't…" Edward breathed incredulously before launching at him once again. The man holding him back tightened his grip on his arms as he began whispering furiously in his ear, probably trying to appease him.

In the ten months I had known him, I had never seen Edward act so violently and I had to confess it was a scary sight. He was out-of-his-mind angry.

"How can you fucking say you didn't see the red light?" he spat. "Are you fucking blind?"

The guy shook his head, accepting the blue handkerchief the old lady was offering him. "I don't know man… I was looking for my phone and I got distracted for a moment."

"You got distracted?" Edward yelled outraged, his green eyes blazing. "I'll show you fucking distracted. You could have killed all of us!"

This was getting out of control, and I knew I had to step in. Approaching Edward carefully, I placed a hand on his shoulder, getting his attention.

"Edward, let it go," I said softly. "It happened and there's nothing you can do about it now."

"He could have harmed you and the baby and you're asking me to let go?" he sneered at me before redirecting his glare to the unfortunate receiver of his wrath. "I'm going to make you pay for this, boy," he threatened, pointing a finger at him menacingly.

"Okay, come on," I said, grabbing his hand and starting to pull him away. He refused to budge, and I pulled harder. "Come on, I said!"

When we were on the driver's side of the BMW, I looked up at him sternly. "You need to calm the hell down, alright? He didn't mean it. It could have happened to anyone. Let's be grateful the outcome wasn't worse."

His jaw set, and I could tell he was trying hard not to take his anger out on me.

"You're telling me I should be grateful that he ran into us at 30mph instead of 50?" he asked in a low voice, and I noted that he was pressing his hand to his back. "And it _is _his fucking fault. He should've paid attention to the road instead of looking for his phone. I swear I could kill that punk with my bare hands."

"What's wrong with your back?" I asked worried.

"It hurts," he replied quietly, his brow furrowing. "I think I pulled a muscle."

Just then, an elderly man wearing glasses and a black fedora approached us.

"Excuse me," he said, clearing his throat.

We both looked at him questioningly.

"Yes?" Edward replied gruffly.

"I'm one of the eyewitnesses and I just wanted to let you know that I already called 911. They're on their way. Also, I noticed that your wife seems hurt, so they're going to send an ambulance as well."

For a moment, I had almost forgotten about my sore wrist. Risking a peak at my knees, I saw that the jeans I was wearing were stained with blood which meant I had some pretty nasty injuries.

"Thank you, sir," I said softly. "We appreciate it."

"No problem." He turned around to leave.

"Sir?" Edward called after him, stopping him in his tracks.

"Yeah?"

"Could you stay until the police arrive? They're probably going to need your testimony."

"Sure." The man nodded. "I'll be over there with my daughter."

Edward let out a heavy sigh, but almost immediately his face contorted in pain and he pressed his hand harder against his lower back.

"Edward…" I started to say, getting really worried about him.

"Don't worry about me," he cut me off gently as if reading my mind. "The pain will be gone by tomorrow. Are you sure the baby's okay?"

"He's fine," I said, giving Edward an unconvincing smile. Deep inside, I was scared that the possibility of losing him still existed.

"Luckily for us, your car is like a small tank and we got away with just a few minor injuries and a sprained wrist." As I spoke, my gaze was drawn to the other driver who was now sitting on the sidewalk, still clutching his broken nose with the borrowed handkerchief. I almost felt bad for him. "But I think you hit that guy pretty badly."

Edward huffed, not even bothering to look his way. "He deserved it, and I couldn't give a fuck about him." Then his expression softened as he placed his hands on my stomach. "Maybe you should give Dr. Clark a call just in case."

I nodded, silently agreeing with him. "I'll call her later if that's what you want."

"It'll give me peace of mind if you call her _now_," he insisted, staring at me intensely.

"I can't believe we just left her office fifteen minutes ago and then _this _happened," I muttered under my breath as I opened the door and got my bag from the backseat.

Dr. Clark answered on the second ring. She had given me her personal number for emergencies and sounded surprised to hear from me so soon. At hearing the news, her tone changed from politely-nice to consternate. She said the baby was still in danger and advised me to go get checked ASAP. Unfortunately, I had been her last appointment and she wasn't at the office anymore, but she recommended visiting the ER that very evening.

Just as I was hanging up, the ambulance arrived, followed by the police a minute later. A tall, blonde paramedic took care of my knee injuries as his partner examined the mohawk guy's broken nose. My jeans were cut from mid-thigh, and I was more then relieved to see that I wasn't bleeding anymore and the wounds weren't as bad as I had initially thought. However, my wrist was another thing entirely. It was now alarmingly swollen and the paramedic suspected it was more than just a sprain.

The other paramedic, a short woman with dark hair, offered to take a look at Edward's back but he stubbornly refused, saying he was alright. In a gruff voice, he told her I was pregnant and that I had to be taken to the ER, so they needed to concentrate their attention on me, not on him. I was about to argue when a policeman tapped him on the shoulder, asking to speak with him.

By the time we made it to the hospital, an hour had passed since the accident. For some reason unknown to me, I was placed in a wheelchair and rushed to the second floor for an OB examination and an X-ray for my wrist. Before parting ways, Edward kissed me on the forehead and I pleaded with him to let a doctor examine the extent of his back injury.

Just as a male nurse pushed my wheelchair out of the elevator, we ran into James who was holding a chart. He did a double take when he saw me, his brown eyes lingering on my bandaged knees.

"Bella?" he said, looking flabbergasted. "What happened?"

"Car crash," the male nurse replied hurriedly. "They need to perform an ultrasound and see if the baby's okay."

James blanched. "Baby? What baby? You're pregnant?"

"You can talk to her later." The nurse continued pushing the wheelchair with determination in his steps. "I have to take her to OB."

About forty minutes later, I was sitting on a stiff examination table, looking down at my brand new cast and waiting for the doctor to return and give me the okay to go home. I frowned, not liking how things had turned out. My knee injuries were going to take a while to heal, I had a broken hand which was disabling to some extent, and I had the mother of all headaches but at least the baby was fine.

_It could have been worse, _was the mantra I was repeating in my head over and over as I tried to lift my own mood.

The door opened and Angela poked her head inside, relief flooding her features when she saw me.

"Dr. Hall told me you were here," she said, rushing over to give me a bear hug. She was wearing light pink scrubs and white nursing shoes. "What the hell happened?"

I told her the story, and by the time I was done, she was perched up beside me on the examination table, holding my left hand.

"But the baby's okay, right?" she inquired tentatively, stealing a glance at my stomach.

I nodded, squeezing her hand. "Yeah, he's still there. For a moment I was really scared that I'd lost him."

She smiled at me warmly. "You've got mommy instincts; that's a good thing. Is Edward here with you?"

"I think he's downstairs, waiting for me."

She was about to say something else when the door opened again and a female nurse stepped inside. "Angela, Dr. Ahmed needs you in room 204."

"I'm coming," she said, getting up and leaning down to kiss my cheek in a very un-Angela fashion. "I'll see you at home, okay?"

She left, and I went back to staring at my ugly cast. When I heard the door creak open for the third time, I was expecting to see my doctor, but instead, my eyes met those of James.

"You shouldn't be here," I said, feeling anxious about being alone in the same room with him.

He stood with his arms folded, his expression neutral. "I just wanted to see how you were doing."

"I'm fine," I replied harshly. "You can go now."

Thinking about Edward's reaction if he ever found out that James had me practically cornered in a small hospital room made me cringe. A broken nose was nothing compared to what he was capable of doing to James if he didn't keep his distance.

"Did the fetus survive?" he asked quietly, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Yes," I replied in a clipped voice, wishing he would go away already. Really, the man was worse than scabies; the harder you tried to get rid of him, the more viciously he clung to you.

He sighed, shaking his head and tracing his lower lip with his thumb. "So, how far along are you?"

"It's none of your business, now is it? Can you _please_ leave? If Edward finds out you're here, he'll…"

"He'll what?" James cut me off abruptly, his entire demeanor changing. "What is he going to do to me, huh?"

"You'd better not test his patience, James," I warned. "I'm telling you this for your own good."

He huffed, scrunching his nose as if my warning disgusted him. "I'm not afraid of your _boyfriend_."

"You'd better be, because trust me when I tell you that you _really_ don't want to be on the receiving end of his anger," I retorted bravely, arching an eyebrow at him.

He chuckled darkly, his next words sending chills down my spine. "No, Bella. Trust _me _when I tell you that if that fucker wants to mess with me, he doesn't know what's coming to him. I was just trying to make you open your eyes and see him for who he really is, but you're as blind as a bat. Now I guess it's too late for you to turn back. Maybe you _do_ deserve him, just like Tatiana deserved what happened to her for not listening to me. Have a good night."

With that, he spun around abruptly and left the room, leaving me alone to my thoughts once again.

_~~ 0 ~~_

The next morning, I woke up to the nasty urge to expel the previous night's dinner. I barely had time to reach the toilet before I started vomiting like never before. In the last couple of days, the morning sickness had really started to kick in, and I hated it. Not only did the smallest of efforts leave me utterly fatigued, but now I had to deal with puke too. It was gross and I had to admit to myself that being pregnant kind of sucked. I refused to even think about how I was going to deal with the other symptoms.

After brushing my teeth, I made my way to the kitchen to fix myself breakfast and a cup of tea. I had given up coffee since finding out I was pregnant, and the lack of caffeine in my life only served to make me grumpier than I already was in the mornings.

When I was done with my Spanish omelet and mint tea, I set to making Edward's breakfast. It was kind of hard to work with only one hand, but I somehow managed to make do.

I made him the same thing, a large Spanish omelet, but instead of tea, he was getting a mug of delicious, reinvigorating coffee. Just looking at the coffee pot made me drool, and I couldn't help sampling the dark, rich liquid before bringing it to him. I made a face at the bitter taste, not getting how he could stand drinking his coffee black.

As I stepped into my bedroom that was still very much encased in darkness despite the late hour, I saw that Edward was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the door. He was bent forward, his hands holding his back as he muttered obscenities under his breath. Placing his mug on the nightstand, I rushed to his side.

"Edward, what is it?" I asked in concern.

"My back hurts," he gritted through clenched teeth.

I sighed heavily, reigning in the urge to scold him for refusing to let a doctor see him. He could be so damn stubborn sometimes…

"Do you want me to give you a massage or something?"

"Would you?" he said, looking up at me pleadingly.

"Of course I would, silly." I smiled, brushing some hair from his forehead and kissing his lips softly. "Lie on your stomach and I'll get the body lotion."

When I came back from the bathroom with the bottle of lotion, he was lying in the position I had requested with his arms folded under his chin.

"Any symptoms yet?" he inquired, referring to what the doctor had told me the other night in ER; if I experienced any unusual symptoms like severe cramps or bleeding, I was to go back immediately.

"No," I assured him, straddling his waist. "Where does it hurt?"

"Here." He pointed to his lower back, his voice strained, and I squirted some lotion in my palm, setting to work.

The second my hands touched him, he began complaining. "Ow, ow, ow. Fucking hell, Isabella!"

"What?" I asked, stopping what I was doing at once.

"Don't press so hard, goddammit, it hurts like hell."

"Hey, don't lash out at me," I said, scowling. "It's not my fault you hit your back. I'm not the one who caused the accident."

"You're right. I'm sorry, but the pain is really intense."

"I barely touched you, Edward. You're going to need to see a chiropractor."

I got off of him, and he rolled onto his back, grimacing as he did so.

"And where do I find one that works on weekends?"

"I'll search the net. Or better yet, you could call Jasper and ask if he knows someone."

"Yeah, that's a good idea," he agreed. "Can you hand me my phone, please?"

Fishing his pants from my desk chair, I dug into one of the pockets and gave him his iPhone. Leaving him to his conversation with his younger brother, I went back to the kitchen to make some toast for his omelet. When I returned to the bedroom with a steaming plate and a couple of Advils, he was staring at the ceiling, his arms at his sides.

"Did you talk to him?" I inquired, setting the plate on the nightstand. "What did he say?"

"He knows someone who works on weekends and holidays, but I need an appointment to see him. Jasper asked for a favor and he was able to squeeze me in tomorrow at two."

"Will you make it until then?"

He shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. "I don't know."

"Here, take these," I said, helping him up and handing him the pills along with the mug of coffee.

In the following hours, things only got worse. By the time three o'clock rolled around, the pain had extended to his legs and Edward was getting desperate. He had me call Jasper, who arrived at my apartment shortly after four with Alice in tow.

"Hey, guys, come on in," I greeted them at the door, stepping aside to let them pass.

"Where's the patient?" Jasper asked playfully, looking around with an air of curiosity.

"He's in my room," I said, giving Alice a warm hug. "Follow me."

"Hey, big bro. You look like hell," Jasper observed, placing his messenger bag on the bed next to him and taking in his surroundings briefly.

Edward frowned at his brother. "And I feel like hell too. I'm going to pass out if you don't do something to lessen the pain."

"Well, I called John again and he said to buy this cream. It's supposed to help with the pain," Jasper said, digging into his bag and taking out a white tub. "Did you say the pain spread to your buttocks and legs in the last couple of hours?"

"Yeah."

He sighed. "I'm no expert on this, but it seems like you have a herniated disk."

"What does that mean?" I asked, and Jasper turned to look at me, his gaze landing on my cast for the first time.

"Your backbone is made up of 26 bones called vertebrae. In between them are soft disks filled with a jelly-like substance. These disks cushion the vertebrae and keep them in place. A herniated disk is a disk that slips out of place or ruptures. If it presses on a nerve, it can cause back pain or sciatica which is pain felt in the lower back, buttock, or various parts of the leg and foot," he explained then nodded towards my hand. "How long do you have to wear that?"

I shrugged. "A few weeks."

"Will I need surgery?" Edward wanted to know, his expression now somber.

Jasper redirected his attention to him. "I don't know. Most minor herniations heal within a few weeks, but severe herniations may require surgical intervention, yes."

"Great," he muttered, sinking further into his pillow.

"So how did it happen?" Alice asked from where she was leaning against the doorframe with her arms folded over her chest.

"Some idiot ran a red light and crashed right into us," Edward replied as Jasper helped him take off his t-shirt and turn onto his stomach.

Alice nodded, her gaze sliding over to me. "Is the baby okay?"

I gave her a small smile. "Yeah, the ambulance rushed me straight to the emergency room. After being checked out, they gave me the okay to go home, but told me to watch for any abnormal symptoms like bleeding and cramping."

"Congrats on the pregnancy, by the way," Jasper said, ignoring a grumbling Edward as he spread the cream all over his lower back. "My brother is going to make an amazing dad."

"I know," I replied, gazing at Edward lovingly.

I still had my doubts as to whether I would make a good mother or not, but Edward… he was definitely going to be a great father, one who was going to completely dedicate himself to his children. And for me, that was one of his best qualities that made him more than a suitable parent and life partner. Because whether we wanted it or not, this child was going to unite us for the rest of our lives, no matter the nature of our personal relationship.

Sensing the opportunity to get Alice alone for a few minutes, I offered to make lemonade and asked her to join me in the kitchen.

As I set to cut a few lemons into halves, I asked nonchalantly, my back to her, "So, how's Esme?"

I heard her sigh. Then she walked over to me and hopped up on the countertop beside me. "Well, she's seen better days."

I looked up at her. "What do you mean?"

"She fell into some sort of depression slash mental instability. One day she's moping around and refusing to see anyone and the next she starts organizing huge dinner parties to which all of her friends are invited. And God forbid anyone from the family doesn't attend those dinner parties. Last Sunday she even picked on me for wearing a dress she didn't like. She said it looked cheap. I mean, it's happened before, but this time she was almost violent about it. I'm telling you, the woman is slowly but surely going mental."

"Does Edward know all this?" I said, trying to absorb this new piece of information.

"I don't think anyone told him. We even avoided telling Esme about your car crash because we have no idea how she's going to react. Carlisle suggested seeing a therapist, but she refused. "

I put the knife down, angling my body towards her. "Do you think we should tell Edward?"

"I don't know, Bella. Maybe it's just an act on her part. Maybe she _wants _us to tell Edward about how much worse her situation has gotten so he will rush to her aid."

"You think she's capable of that?" I asked apprehensively.

"Oh yeah," she replied, sounding pretty sure. "Esme's extremely manipulative."

"If you say so," I retorted, going back to making lemonade. Deep in my heart, the seeds of doubt were just being planted.

_What if?_ I asked myself.

_What if she really is sick and needs our help?_

_~~ 0 ~~_

The following week, Edward decided to take a few days off from work. The pain had somewhat subsided after his appointment on Sunday, but he was unable to remain in a sitting position for more than half an hour or so before the pain started to spread to his buttocks and legs. Luckily, he didn't need surgery, but his recuperation was going to take a few weeks, just as Jasper had said.

I had also taken time off from my job at the bookstore to take care of him. The first two days of the week we spent at his place, reading in bed, watching TV and going for short walks. On Wednesday, a problem occurred with one of his important clients, ruining our plans for his birthday. Since he had to go to the office and his car was still in the auto shop, I drove him before making my way to _The Oriental_. Driving with a cast was a bit difficult, but I managed pretty well. Kate was surprised to see me, but gladly accepted my help with stocking up the shelves.

Four hours later, I decided that Edward had put in enough work time for the day. Leaving Kate to her newest lecture, I climbed into my car and drove back to the imposing building holding the _Cullen and sons_ offices. I parked the Volvo across the street then made my way inside, heading straight for the reception area. I felt excited at being there for the first time, and the blinding smile the brunette receptionist gave me as she directed me to the 38th floor, only served to brighten my mood.

I wanted to surprise Edward, so I hadn't told him that I was going to pick him up for lunch. The ride to the 38th floor took longer than I had expected, sharp-looking businessman after businessman stepping in and out the elevator every few seconds. Some of them gave me curious looks, making me feel a bit self-conscious about myself as I was dressed pretty casually in jeans, a peach-colored top and gold sandals.

Once on the right floor, I took a left as instructed and passed through a long hallway before reaching a set of double glass doors. I opened them, walking past what seemed to be a waiting room before reaching an empty desk. I frowned, looking around and noticing two other doors.

All of a sudden, one of the two doors opened and an attractive red-head wearing white stilettos and a too short, tight-fitting black dress emerged. She gave me the once over, her scarlet lips puckering as she did so.

So _this_ was Edward's assistant. I felt the green-eyed monster rear its ugly head as I took her in. She was simply beautiful with legs a mile long, soft curly hair that reached past her shoulders and large green eyes adorned by black eyeliner.

How the hell was he able to concentrate on work with _her_ around?

Realizing I was staring, I cleared my throat, forcing a tight smile on my lips. "Hello. I'm here to see Mr. Cullen."

"Do you have an appointment?" she said indifferently, sitting at her desk.

"Uh, no, I'm…" I began to say, but a deep, male voice cut me off.

"She's his girlfriend."

I spun around to see Emmett standing a few feet away. He was dressed in a navy-blue suit that made him look even larger and more intimidating than he already was, and my heart started beating frantically.

Oh, I was so screwed…

"Emmett, hi," I said quietly, desperately wishing that Edward would materialize beside me that very instant.

He stared at me, his face impassive as he buried his hands into his pants' pockets. Then his dark eyes dropped to my stomach where they lingered for a moment before moving to the cast on my right hand. "Edward's not here," he said, looking back up. "He and Dad went out for lunch about an hour ago."

"Oh." I clutched my oversized bag between my nervous hands, taking a step forward. "I guess I'll be leaving then."

He was practically blocking my path, so I waited for him to move aside or leave. But he did neither. Instead, he cocked his head to the side as he stared at me some more.

"Jessica's been asking about you," he said, his tone neutral.

I had no idea what to reply to that, so I just kept my mouth shut.

Then he spun on his heels abruptly, adding over his shoulder as le left, "You can wait in his office if you'd like. They should be back soon."

_Okay_, I thought to myself as I stared after him dumbfounded … _that was different._

"Can I get you anything while you wait?" Victoria asked, now displaying a fake smile. "Tea, coffee, water?"

I returned a fake smile of my own. "I would like some tea, please."

She stood, leading me towards Edward's office and ushering me inside. As she closed the door behind me, I looked around curiously. The room was spacious with beige walls and a dark-brown carpet covering the floor. Facing away from the large windows overlooking the city was a large ebony desk paired with a black leather desk chair. On the other side of the desk, there were two bright-red armchairs with an intricate oriental pattern; the only colorful objects in the room. On the left wall resided long bookshelves from the same ebony wood as the desk, while to my right there was a comfortable-looking leather couch.

Setting my bag down on the couch, I made my way to the windows and gazed outside, admiring the view. Then I took a seat in Edward's chair and began inspecting the objects lying on the desk. There was an open file, an expensive-looking pen, his computer, a half-eaten muffin lying on a saucer, a stapler and a stack of yellow post-it notes. Next to the post-its was a blue coffee mug, and upon a closer examination, I saw that it had a black and white picture of Edward and Jessica printed on it. Underneath the picture, _happy 35__th__ birthday, Uncle Eddie_, was written in small white letters.

But what really got my attention was a picture of us taken in Prague. I picked up the silver frame and couldn't help but smile. We looked so happy.

Just then, the door opened and Victoria stepped in carrying a mug. I put the frame in its previous spot and accepted the tea she was offering. Her eyes met the photo and she smiled at me in what was supposed to be a friendly manner. But I wasn't fooled. I could feel the antipathy rolling off of her in waves.

"It is funny how just before last week Mr. Cullen never mentioned you. Have you been together long?"

"Four months actually, but we've known each other longer than that," I replied, stirring sugar into my tea and keeping eye contact.

"So, I hear you're pregnant. Congratulations," she went on, leaning with her palm against the edge of the desk.

"Thanks," I said, taking a sip of the warm liquid. Thinking of how hot it was outside made me regret that I hadn't asked for ice-tea instead or just water.

She lingered, looking as if she was tempted to dig for more info, but decided against it. "Well, enjoy your tea. I'll be outside if you need me."

When I was alone again, I got up and began inspecting the room more closely. I found a hidden closet and inside it a couple of button-down shirts, a few ties and a gray suit.

One door I hadn't seen before piqued my curiosity and behind it I discovered a small bathroom. It even had a shower cabin, and I looked around in awe, suddenly understanding why Edward spent so much time at work. He could easily live in this office. He could even sleep on the couch if he ever felt like it. Not to mention that being in close proximity to his hot, supermodel assistant was the cherry on top of the cake.

Just as I was coming out of the bathroom, Edward showed up. He smiled when he saw me but wasn't surprised to find me there. _Victoria_ had obviously alerted him of my presence.

"Isabella, what are you doing here?" he inquired, leaning down to brush my lips with his.

"I wanted to take you out for lunch since it's your birthday and all, but it looks like your father beat me to it," I said, returning the smile.

"Yeah, we met with a client. Have you been here long?"

"About fifteen minutes or so. Emmett said I could wait for you here."

His brow furrowed. "Emmett?"

"Yeah. He was oddly…" I paused, searching for the right word, "…polite to me."

"Interesting," he murmured as if to himself. Then he placed his hand on my stomach and rubbed gently. "So how's little button doing?"

"Little button?" I chuckled.

He grinned. "You saw the ultrasound. He's the size of a button."

"He's fine, making his mommy sick at the most inopportune of times," I said, covering his hand with mine. "How's your back?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "Pretty much the same."

"Poor you," I murmured, rising on my tiptoes to give him another kiss. "So what should we do for your birthday?"

"I just want to go home, drink some of that scotch you got me and later have a nice home-cooked dinner and maybe a hot bath."

"Sounds good to me."

I wanted to ask him if Esme had called to wish him a happy birthday, but refrained. She probably hadn't and wouldn't so there was no point bringing her up. Knowing Esme, I could bet that before I had entered Edward's life she had used to plan chic birthday parties for him. But that wasn't the case anymore and the thought made me quite sad.

_~~ 0 ~~_

Two weeks after the crash, on a beautiful Saturday at the end of June, I was finally moving in with Edward. Angela and Edward's doorman, Peter, helped us carry my luggage upstairs, and a few hours later, the evidence of my moving in could be found in almost every room of the spacious condo. We celebrated by clinking a glass of champagne –orange juice for me- and although Angela was visibly sad about losing me as a roommate, we both knew Ben was going to be taking my place in no time at all.

That night, as Edward worked in his study, Susan came. I was craving chocolate chip cookies, so she offered to make them for me. We chatted animatedly as I helped her with dinner, and by the time she was ready to leave, Kate was announcing her arrival.

We had invited my aunt over for dinner to celebrate both my new home and the pregnancy, and she had gladly accepted. It had been Edward's idea, and I liked the fact that he was taking an interest in the only family I had left.

Kate loved Edward and she was even more enamored with the idea of having a great nephew. She solemnly promised to take upon the role of babysitter whenever we needed one, and we thanked her, both of us understanding her need of giving affection to the child she never had.

We stayed up until late, and the next morning I woke up feeling more nauseated than ever. After emptying my stomach and having a light cereal breakfast, I made my way back to the bedroom where Edward was still very much asleep.

Staring at his naked chest and disheveled bed hair made me want him with a sense of urgency I had never experienced before. Crawling over to him, I straddled his waist, making sure not to press my weight down on him just yet. Then I stretched myself towards his face and began peppering light kisses wherever my lips landed.

He made a soft sound and his eyes fluttered open. I smiled at him mischievously, and he smiled back, grabbing my hips to pull me down on him. I gasped as I felt his morning erection between my legs, and he let out a low chuckle.

"Good morning, roomie," he said teasingly, his voice husky.

"Mmm, good morning," I breathed, starting to grind on him with purpose.

"Eager this morning, are we?"

I nodded, going back to assaulting him with kisses. I trailed a wet path from his collarbone to his ear, and he groaned, tightening his grip on me.

"I'm so horny it's ridiculous," I confessed, tracing his earlobe with the tip of my tongue.

"Oh," he breathed almost in a whisper. "God, do that again."

"You mean this?" I repeated the motion, and he let out what could only be described as a guttural moan.

Although it only served to make me impossibly horny, I enjoyed seeing him this worked up. It made me feel powerful and confident of my womanly charms.

Edward started kneading my ass eagerly, and it was my turn to moan as I continued sliding up and down his firm erection. When it became too much, I sat back up, panting, and tugged on the waistband of his boxer briefs, indicating that I wanted to pull them off of him. He complied obediently, lifting his hips to help me get him naked.

I slid the boxers down his legs then tossed them over my shoulder, not caring where they landed. He was looking at me with an intensity that took my breath away as his tongue came out to trail a moist path over his lower lip, and I took him in hungrily in all his naked glory. Placing a light kiss just above his navel, I climbed out of bed and started undressing slowly, much to his obvious enjoyment.

When I climbed back on top of him, his erection tucked between us, he immediately reached out to caress my breasts. I moaned, louder than before, throwing my head back and basking in his ministrations.

"Your breasts have grown," he noted, his eyes hooded. "I love it."

"Mmhmm," I hummed in agreement. My breasts had not only grown but they were also more sensitive to his touch, intensifying the pleasure I felt.

Edward circled my nipples with his thumbs, and I ran my palms all over his chiseled chest, leaning in for a kiss. He granted me access, our tongues meeting as we made out passionately. Letting go of my breasts and grabbing hold of my hair instead, he crushed me to him, starting to place frantic kisses along my neck. His other hand slid down my back and ass until he found my entrance, wasting no time pushing two of his fingers inside.

We both groaned in unison, me louder than him as he began pumping his fingers in and out at a merciless pace. I was already so worked up that it didn't take me long to come. A minute later I was crying out my release, and he switched our positions so that I was pinned underneath him. Then he entered me so swiftly that I let out a surprised gasp, my arms wrapping around him automatically.

He started moving, his thrusts hard and deep, and my eyes almost rolled to the back of my head; it felt so good. But I had other plans. I wanted to tease him some more. I pushed against his chest, and he slowed his movements, looking at me with an expression that read both confusion and desperation.

With a reassuring smirk, I continued pushing until he was on his back again. I kissed him sweetly, taking my time, and he grabbed for me again, but I slapped his hands away. He scowled at me, looking positively frustrated, and I just smirked some more.

I dragged my lips down his chest, stopping to circle his nipples with my tongue, and his fingers locked into my hair tightly as his mouth formed a small 'o'. When I reached his belly button, I licked my way around it, my hands running over his thighs, and he lifted his head so he could watch what I was doing better.

Understanding where I was going with this, he swallowed thickly, his grip on my hair getting impossibly tight. I took him into my good hand while keeping eye contact and kissed just the tip, my tongue darting out to catch a transparent drop.

"Ooohh," he breathed, gritting his teeth.

I smiled at his reaction, opening my mouth and taking half of him in. I wasn't an expert at giving blow jobs, but judging by the way his body seemed to be convulsing, I think I was doing pretty good so far. I went on, alternating between licking and sucking and caressing his sack, and when I felt that he was ready to orgasm, I pulled away quickly.

"Isabella what are you doing!" he exclaimed, his eyes getting wild. "I was just about to…"

"I know," I cut him off, jumping to my feet. "Now, if you want more you'll have to catch me."

I started running, heading for the living room. Behind me, I heard his muttered curse then a loud thud as he scrambled from bed and began chasing after me. I barely made it to the living room before he caught up to me. His arms wrapped around me from behind, and I squealed, struggling to get away.

"You're not getting away this time," he whispered in my ear, biting on my earlobe.

"Are you going to punish me?" I challenged, pushing back against him.

He chuckled, starting to direct me towards the balcony. "Yes."

"What are you doing?" I asked panicked when he opened the balcony door and let me outside.

"Punishing you," he replied simply.

"Edward, are you insane?" I squeaked. "People are going to see us."

"Don't worry about it," he coaxed. "We're pretty high up, the glass railing reaches past your navel and I'm going to cover your breasts with my arm. Not to mention that the buildings in this area are pretty far away from each other. No one's going to see us, and if they do, they'll have no idea what we're doing."

"I don't know," I muttered, although I had to admit that the idea was kind of thrilling.

He peppered kisses along the side of my neck, pressing my front against the railing. "Don't over-think it."

So I didn't. Instead, I let myself get carried away by the excitement of performing such an exhibitionist act.

Edward covered my breasts with his arm as promised while his free hand parted my folds and he thrust inside as swiftly as the first time.

"Fuck," he groaned. "You feel amazing."

He rarely swore during sex, so hearing such an expletive leave his mouth made me impossibly wet. With long, measured thrusts he filled me over and over again until I was unable to form coherent thoughts. I came hard, and he followed, pressing his lips to mine fervently and swallowing my cries of ecstasy.

Afterwards, we remained connected for a little longer as we looked at the city below.

"I love you," he said, nuzzling my nose with his.

"I love you, too."

He smiled. "Good, because I think I need another massage. I strained myself too much this morning, and my back is starting to hurt again."

I smiled back. "For you, just about anything, Edward."

_~~ 0 ~~_

I glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand and sighed. It was really late at night, and I was craving ice cream like crazy. The craving was so intense that I couldn't even sleep. All I could think about was having half a gallon of Ben and Jerry's between my hands and a large spoon to shovel it with.

Edward was asleep, his back to me, and I bit my lip, debating what to do. After a few minutes, I decided to wake him up.

"Edward," I murmured, placing my hand on his shoulder and shaking him.

He mumbled something incoherent, burying his face further into his pillow.

"Edward, wake up," I whispered, shaking him harder.

"What?" he grumbled before turning around to face me.

"I'm craving ice cream," I said.

"What?" he repeated with a frown as he tried to rub sleep from his eyes.

"I said I'm craving ice cream."

"You're craving ice cream at…" he paused to glance at the clock, "…3:14 in the morning?"

I shrugged innocently. "Yeah."

"And you want me to go buy it for you," he stated flatly.

"Yeah."

He groaned. "Where am I going to find an open store at this hour?"

"You wanted a baby," I said, crossing my arms over my chest defiantly. "Now deal with the consequences."

"I have to work tomorrow, you know that?" he said, already getting out of the bed.

"I'm working tomorrow too, but you don't see me complaining about the late hour. Did anyone ever tell you that you're really grouchy when you don't get enough sleep?"

He started looking for clothes, ignoring my comment.

"What kind do you want?" he asked when he was dressed, shoving his wallet into his pants' pocket.

"Ben and Jerry's Cheesecake brownie."

He nodded, although he was clearly not happy about what I was making him do. He left, closing the bedroom door softly behind him, and I reached for the remote to turn on the TV. I was feeling a bit guilty for having sent him out at that hour, but it was necessary when only the thought of getting my ice cream was enough to make me salivate.

By the time he made it back, it was almost four a.m. He handed me the ice cream carton along with a spoon which I accepted eagerly.

"Thanks." I beamed at him, opening the lid and taking a mouthful. It melted into my mouth, and I moaned, closing my eyes for a brief second. It was _so _good.

Edward was looking at me with an amused expression as he started stripping down to his boxer briefs. He was back asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

_Well_, I said to myself as I savored the dessert. _This pregnancy thing is kind of fun, after all._

* * *

><p><strong>AN On my profile you can find Isabella's outfit for when she goes to Edward's office.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~ Andreea !**


	24. Chapter 23: Blessed

**A/N Happy Valentine's Day! **

**Sorry this update took so long, but it would have taken even longer if it weren't for Mid Night- Cougar and her awesome beta'ing skills :D**

**Jen rocks as always!**

**Also, my French is a bit rusty, so I hope that my French-speaking readers aren't going to be too mad at me for butchering their language…**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 23<strong>

**Edward Pov**

* * *

><p><em>~ July 21<em>_st__, 2012 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

"Oh, Edward," she moaned, her eyes half closed as her voluptuous body moved up and down on me with purpose.

Her nails dug into my chest, her outstretched arms framing the fullness of her breasts on each side and captivating my attention. She was twelve weeks pregnant and her baby bump was now easily visible, especially from the position I was in. Entranced, I moved one hand from her hips to her stomach and rubbed the soft skin gently. She let out a quiet whimper, and I trailed my way upwards, making sure to take my time in caressing each breast thoroughly.

"Oh," she breathed again when my thumb circled her taut nipple. "That feels good."

I smiled a little, enjoying watching her pleasure. For the past week or so, her sex drive had been off the charts, and I was more than glad to be on the receiving end of her unrestrained passion.

Although the changes in her body weren't major yet, her behavior had somewhat altered since getting pregnant. While her mood swings were still something I was trying to get used to, her revved up sex drive made me deliriously happy. I had read somewhere that some pregnant women have no sexual desire at all, but luckily for us, that wasn't the case with Isabella. Now she was the one to initiate most of our intimate moments, and there were days when she was so hungry for me that she left me completely spent.

And even though our prolonged love-making sessions were tiring, I wouldn't have had it any other way. With all her increased sensitivity, her orgasms were more frequent and much more intense than ever before which only made our time between the sheets more pleasurable for the both of us.

Isabella leaned over me and leisurely dragged her lips across mine before opening her mouth and stroking my tongue with hers. It was my time to moan as the new angle caused her internal walls to wrap around my cock tighter. Her hands roamed the muscles on my shoulders freely as she broke the kiss to stare down at me with intense brown eyes, and I pulled her closer to me, my right hand reaching behind her to palm her luscious ass.

"Let's switch," she proposed, pushing herself off of me.

She got on all fours on the mattress beside me, and I had to reign in the urge to plunge into her roughly as I sat on my knees behind her. Grabbing hold of her hips, I began to push my way inside slowly. She arched her back in return, dropping her upper weight onto her elbows and fisting the sheet above her head.

"Harder," she demanded, unsatisfied with the pace I was setting.

"Like this?" I asked, pulling out all the way and slamming my hips against her backside so hard, she was pushed forward with her face pressed against the mattress.

"Oh, God, yes," she cried out, her voice muffled.

Her cries spurred me on, and I increased my pace and intensity, keeping it up until she came hard, her powerful orgasm triggering my own. Afterwards, I found myself on my back, staring at the ceiling as Isabella lay with her head on my chest, her fingers playing with the short hairs there.

It was our second day in Salers, a picturesque mountain village in Auvergne, one of the twenty-seven administrative regions of France. We had spent five days in Paris, one in Mont Saint-Michel, and we planned on spending two more in Salers. Then we were going to head to Monte Carlo for a full week of sunbathing and lavish activities.

"What do you feel like doing today?" I asked, stroking her smooth hair.

She placed her chin on her folded arms as she looked up at me. "I feel like driving around to see the mountains, maybe even have a little picnic in a meadow somewhere."

I smiled, leaning down to place a loving kiss on the tip of her nose. "Sounds like a plan."

"I'm starving," she yawned, stretching lazily. "Should we order breakfast or do you want to go back to _La Diligence_?"

I reached to the nightstand for my watch only to see that it was a quarter past nine in the morning. "Let's go back to _La Diligence_. I want to give their breakfast menu a try."

Isabella stretched some more before pushing herself off of me and getting out of the bed. "I'm going to take a shower," she said, glancing at me over her shoulder. "Do you want to join me?"

"Do you even have to ask?" I replied with a chuckle, admiring her naked form as she walked into the bathroom.

The bathroom that had no door.

Our suite at _Le Bailliage_ hotel had a very interesting design. While half of the suite's walls were covered in chunks of chopped log to give the rooms a more rustic ambiance, the bathroom's exterior walls were made out of stone. More so, these curved stone walls, came descending from the ceiling, ending up at chin level where the door was supposed to be.

I watched from the bed as Isabella bent over the bathtub and tested the water with the tips of her fingers. Then she straightened up and placed the shower head in its support on the blue tile wall before stepping inside and pulling the shower curtain. With a contented sigh, I rose to my feet and followed after her.

Forty minutes and a very steamy shower later, we were walking hand in hand towards the small restaurant called _La Diligence_, which was situated right in the center of the medieval village. Once there, we decided to sit at one of the tables outside just like we had done the previous night. I pulled out Isabella's chair for her before sitting down across from her. The same waiter who had served us at dinner approached us with a smile, holding our menus.

"Bonjour," he greeted, placing the menus in front of us. He was a middle-aged man of small stature with really dark hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Bonjour," I replied. "Merci beaucoup."

He departed shortly after with a nod, giving us time to decide.

"Their cheese omelet looks good," I commented moments later, looking at the pictures displayed next to each dish.

Isabella hummed in agreement, still very much focused on her own menu. "But I'm going to have the crêpes."

"Again?" I inquired, amused.

She glanced at me, smiling sheepishly. "They're _really_ good."

"That's all you're having?"

"Yeah." She shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm actually going to have two of them."

I was just about to argue that crêpes weren't exactly a proper breakfast when our waiter returned with a small notebook and a pen.

"Puis-je prendre votre commande?" _(Can I take your order?)_ he asked, looking at us expectantly.

"Je voudrais une omelette au fromage, de l'eau minérale Vichy et un café," _(I would like a cheese omelet, Vichy mineral water and a cup of coffee,)_ I replied, and he jotted down my order before moving his gaze to Isabella.

"Oh. Um, I want two of these warm apple and chocolate crêpes, please."

"Deux?" He held up two fingers, indicating that whether or not he spoke English, he at least understood some of it.

"Yes."

"Do you want anything to drink?" I asked her.

"Juice I guess," she said, closing her menu and giving it to the waiter. "You pick for me."

I briefly skimmed the menu still in my hands before handing it over. "Et un jus de fruits Pago, s'il vous pla_**î**_t." _(And some Pago fruit juice, please)_

"De pommes, de pêches, de fraise?" _(Apple, peach, strawberry?)_ he said automatically.

"De pommes." _(Apple.)_

"C'est tout?" _(Is this all?)_

"Oui." _(Yes.)_

He nodded, turning on his heel and heading inside. When I redirected my attention back to Isabella, I saw that she was staring at me with a strange expression.

"What?" I frowned. "Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?"

She shook her head, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. "You're just… you're so sexy when you speak French."

The frown on my face suddenly morphed into a cocky smirk. "Am I now?"

"Yes, you are," she murmured, her teeth digging into her lower lip as she propped her elbows on the table and leaned towards me. "It makes me want to tie you up to the bed and never let you leave the hotel room again."

Imitating her posture, I placed my hands on top of hers and squeezed gently. "The pregnancy has made you insatiable."

"But you love it," she shot back boldly, now smiling like the Cheshire cat.

Chuckling, I tugged on her hands, bringing her to me until our faces were mere inches apart. "Indeed I do."

I kissed her, and she responded passionately, our fingers linking on top of the small table. For as long as the kiss lasted we were oblivious to everyone and everything around us. Then, sometime later, we were interrupted by a throat clearing, and we looked up to see our waiter standing there with our drinks.

After breakfast, we headed towards one of the grocery shops nearby, owned by an old lady named Madame Thibault. She and her grandson were the ones usually taking care of the shop, but today she was on her own. Her grandson Jean-Paul was off to Mauriac to get supplies.

Madame Thibault smiled at us welcomingly from behind the counter, her aged facial features brightening immediately. We had met the other day, so she knew we were tourists coming all the way from the US. And even though she spoke no English and Isabella barely understood French, she insisted on complimenting her beauty the same way she had done the first time she laid eyes on her. Isabella smiled politely but having no idea what the woman was saying to her, she looked at me questioningly. I translated for her, and she blushed, murmuring a shy '_merci_' to which Madame Thibault answered with a knowing wink.

She went on, chatting with me animatedly, and I told her we wanted to have a picnic for lunch and we needed some cheese and fruits. In return, she whipped a red picnic basket out of nowhere and started loading it with two types of cheese, a baguette, grapes, strawberries, peaches and some chocolate cookies. We opted for grape juice instead of red wine, and she gave us a suspicious look before her gaze landed on Isabella's stomach and realization hit her. Needless to say that the avalanche of compliments and congratulations that followed was the most enthusiastic reaction I'd seen in a long time.

When we were done grocery shopping, we headed back to the hotel to change clothes and most importantly shoes. Then we climbed into the rented Renault SUV and drove out of the village at a leisurely speed in search of a place to have our picnic.

The car was filled with comfortable silence, and I reached over the gear shift to place my hand on Isabella's thigh. She smiled at me sweetly, linking our fingers together in her lap, and I turned my attention back on the curvy road ahead.

"Oh my God, Edward!" she suddenly yelled not even minutes later, squeezing my hand. "Stop the car!"

"What is it?" I asked panicked, slowing the car down immediately.

"Look there." She pointed out her window. "Cows!"

"Yes." I frowned, not seeing the danger in that. "And?"

She looked like an excited five year old as she clasped her hands in front of her and uttered her next words. "I've never seen a real cow before."

My eyebrows rose in surprise. "You haven't?"

"No." She shook her head slowly, biting on her lip.

I sighed, knowing that I now had no other choice but to stop the car. I parked it next to a small ditch on the side of the road and helped Isabella out. As we made our way through the tall grass towards the herd of cattle, she couldn't seem to be able to reign in her giddiness.

"They're so cute," she gushed, squeezing my hand as her head turned from one side of the vast pasture to the other. "But I don't see anyone around. Shouldn't they be supervised or something? What if they run away?"

I chuckled, stopping at a safe distance and halting her with me. "They don't need supervision, baby. When the sun starts to set, they return to the village on their own."

"Really?" she sounded awed.

I nodded, smiling. "That's how they were taught, and now it's basically instinct. After roaming freely in pastures and eating grass all day long, they go home to drink water and get milked."

"How do you know this stuff?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "I've been to the French countryside before."

"Of course you have." She rolled her eyes playfully, going back to watching the cows.

We stood silently for a little while, just watching the large animals ruminate, until Isabella unexpectedly let go of my hand and took a few steps forward.

"Oh, look, Edward, that cow has a baby!" she exclaimed, her eyes getting this strange glow I hadn't seen in them prior to the pregnancy. "And it has a blue bow around its neck, how cute is that? I wonder whether she'll get mad if I try to touch it."

"Let's not risk it," I said, quickly grabbing her wrist to stop her, and she scowled at me.

"But I want to touch the calf."

By the look she was giving me, I knew she was about to start a fight, so I wisely relented.

"Fine." I linked our fingers together, cautiously approaching the calf that didn't look to be more than a couple of weeks old, while keeping a vigilant eye on the mother. "Come on."

"They're so much bigger up close," Isabella whispered, and by the tone in her voice I could tell she was getting nervous.

"_The Salers_ is a large breed. The female only stands approximately 4.6 feet tall but can weigh up to 1,700 lb. As you can see, they have a thick mahogany red coat and long lyre-shaped, light-colored horns, two characteristics that are specific to this breed, although, a small percentage of _Salers_ cows are naturally born without horns," I explained, remembering what an old French merchant had once told me.

"Were you a farmer in a previous life?" she joked, glancing at me from her peripheral as we continued advancing slowly.

"First of all, I don't believe in reincarnation. Secondly, well, you know me, I have a curious nature. The first time I came to the _Massif Central_, I was twelve, so you can imagine my fascination with the cows I encountered here. I wanted to know _everything _about them. At some point, I even tried to mount one like a horse and almost gave my parents a heart attack in the process," I said, the distant memories causing a sense of melancholia inside me which I brushed away quickly, not wanting to put a damper on my day.

We stopped again, only a few feet away from the calf and its mother, and waited, not knowing how to proceed. I was afraid of angering the cow, but she just sat there, eating her grass and staring at us impassively. I was about to suggest we leave when the calf boldly made its way to us. It went straight to Isabella and began pushing its small head against her hip.

"He's a friendly little fella," I said, alternating between watching it and its mother. It went on, pushing against Isabella insistently, and I realized that it wasn't being friendly but territorial. "Or not."

Isabella chuckled at its feeble attempt to drive her away. "Hello," she said, reaching down to run her hand over its head and nose. "You're a boy, aren't you? Yes, you are. Are you trying to protect your mommy? Don't worry no one's going to hurt her."

I refrained from rolling my eyes at her monologue.

"Awww. His nose is so smooth and wet. He's so adorable." She sighed, glancing up at me. "Can we adopt him?"

"I don't think they'd let us put him on a plane so we could take it home with us," I said, watching as her face fell. "Besides," I rushed to add, knowing I had the supreme argument coming, "you wouldn't want to separate him from his mother, would you?"

"No." She shook her head, looking horrified at the mere thought.

I smiled, walking behind her and wrapping my arms around her belly. "Soon you'll have your own baby to gush over," I murmured in her ear, kissing her earlobe. "Our very own Edward Cullen Junior."

She turned around to face me, placing her hands on my biceps. "You really want him to be a boy, don't you?"

"I just have a feeling."

She smiled challengingly. "I say we're going to have a bouncing baby girl who's going to inherit your eyes and my hair."

My own smile spread into a grin. "You wanna bet?"

"Okay," she accepted, taking a step back and thrusting her hand forward. "Baby girl. Your eyes, my hair color."

"Baby boy, _my_ hair color, your eyes," I went along, wrapping my hand around hers.

"We'll see in seven months," she said, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "What are we betting on?"

My grin got so big, my cheeks hurt. "If I win, you marry me and we make another baby."

She didn't even blink as she countered back. "If _I_ win, I get to choose the house, without you having any say in the matter."

I had once mentioned moving into a bigger house when the baby was born, and she seemed to seriously consider it. Having Isabella move in with me had been one of the best decisions I had ever made, and I couldn't wait for our family to grow. I couldn't wait to hear the pitter patter of little feet as my son or daughter ran to greet me at the door after a long day at work while the smell of my wife's divine cooking assaulted my nostrils.

I laughed heartily, enjoying this little bet of ours. "Done."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Two days later, we were checking into our hotel in Monte Carlo. As we rode the elevator to the last floor where the Presidential Suite was located, Isabella fidgeted beside me, her excitement making her restless.

"I'm so excited to go to the beach," she said, giving me a sudden hug and my lips a noisy kiss. "I haven't been in forever."

I smiled and kissed her back, her good mood infectious. "I can barely wait to see you in a bikini."

"Mmm," she hummed flirtatiously, one of her hands rubbing my ass. "Tell me about it. I've never seen you in swimming trunks before. I bet you look hot."

I groaned, her ministrations causing my cock to spur to life. We couldn't reach our destination fast enough.

Once on the right floor, we stepped out of the elevator and she opened the door to our suite before going inside where our bags were already waiting. I followed, my eyes glued to her bare legs and perky ass as she glanced around, taking in her surroundings, before heading for the large windows overlooking the Mediterranean Sea.

"Wow. I mean, just… wow. This hotel is amazing."

"The only hotel in Monte Carlo with its own private beach," I replied, not taking my eyes off of her. I couldn't care less about the hotel. All I was interested in was the location of the bedroom.

"Speaking of beaches..." She spun around, looking for our luggage. "I can't wait to try out my new bathing suits."

"Later," I said huskily, taking her into my arms and starting to kiss my way down her neck. I wanted her and I wanted her right that instant. She had been teasing me with her skimpy attire all day long, and I didn't plan on letting her leave our rooms before I'd had my fill of her.

She pushed against my chest, and I pulled her even closer to me. "No, not later, Edward. _Now_. It's already four o'clock. There won't be any sun later."

"Later," I insisted, burying my right hand into her lace panties from behind while my left one tugged at the thin straps covering her shoulders. "You look so hot in these platform sandals and short, short, _short_ dress."

"It's not that short." She laughed breathlessly, trying to get away from my heated embrace.

"Come here, let me take it off," I panted, already worked up to an extreme. "I want you so badly right now."

Her laugh died down to a light chuckle as she pushed against me once more. "Let go."

With a frustrated groan, I obeyed, but kept my hands on her hips. "Please? You can't leave me like this," I said, nodding towards my crotch. "I'm going to be pitching a tent for the rest of the afternoon."

She shrugged, starting to walk away. "Sorry, but I'm really not in the mood right now. I'm going to the beach, with or without you."

"Can't we just rest for a little while?" I made a last desperate attempt, following her into the large master bedroom. "We barely got here."

She snorted unceremoniously. "Rest, yeah right. Sex has nothing to do with resting. I'm going to change."

As I watched her disappear into the bathroom, I let out a heavy sigh. I wanted to go to the beach as well, but I wanted her more. We had been going at it like jackrabbits since the beginning of our vacation, and I still couldn't seem to get enough of her. She was intoxicating.

Sometime later, we found ourselves at the hotel's private beach. We picked two of the few empty red lounge chairs and placed our towels on them. Isabella started undressing, and I watched, a bit mesmerized, as she pulled her dress over her head and tossed it carelessly on the back of her lounge. Her floral yellow bathing suit had a strapless bra that accentuated her much more generous breasts, while her bikini hung low on her hips, and my hands itched to touch her.

"Come here, let me rub some sun block on you," I said, motioning her over.

She pulled her hair up in a loose bun before making her way over to my lounge chair and turning her back to me. I grabbed the sunscreen and squirted some in my hand then spread it all over her upper back. I began massaging her soft skin, and she sighed as I felt her shoulders relax completely. When I was done with her back, I did her front, taking extra time to rub sun block on her stomach and inner thighs.

By the time there wasn't an inch of her skin left that I hadn't attended to, I was already sporting another erection.

"My turn," she said quietly, the ghost of a smile appearing on her lips as she looked down between us.

Her hands on me did nothing to make my problem go away, and when she said she wanted to do my back, I sat in front of her on the lounge chair and leaned forward until my face was pressed against her stomach and my hands were wrapped around her thighs.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I muttered as she made do with the new position we were in.

"A little," she answered, placing a kiss at the nape of my neck. "I promise I'll make it up to you tonight."

"You'd better," I said gruffly, squeezing the back of her thighs gently.

When she was finished torturing me with the softness on her hands, I decided I needed to cool off.

"I'm going into the sea," I said, getting up and reluctantly starting to unbutton my jeans, afraid that someone might see the protruding bulge in my swim trunks. "Do you want to come?"

"You go," she replied, stretching into her lounge chair. "I want to catch some sun first."

The water was warmer than I had expected, which was disappointing, given my condition. I wanted to dive under, but my back hadn't healed completely after the car accident, so I settled for a short swim, not wanting to strain myself too much.

I caught Isabella watching me from the shore, and I lifted my hand, waving at her. She waved back, and I smiled, the sight of her so relaxed and happy warming my heart.

Behind the hotel, the imposing Mont Angel made its presence known, and the panorama was absolutely breathtaking. Somewhere to my left was the main port with its permanent residents, the luxurious yachts and boats, symbols of the rich and famous.

Farther north into the sea, the loud noise of jet skis reached my ears, and I watched as they chased each other, thinking that I couldn't wait to do the same with Isabella. The week unfolding ahead of us was long enough for us to do anything we pleased, and I was hell bent on showing her why Monaco was such an appreciated destination for tourists all over the world.

About fifteen or twenty minutes later, I got out of the water and ordered a cold beer as a young waitress passed me by. As I toweled off, I shook my head in Isabella's direction, sending large droplets of water all over her. She let out a surprised squeal, throwing the book she had been reading at me, and I laughed, leaning down to capture her lips with mine.

I lay down next to her and placed my sunglasses on just as the waitress returned with my beer. Taking a large gulp, I noticed Isabella eying the bottle longingly.

"Do you want a sip?" I offered.

She swallowed and shook her head. "I shouldn't."

"A sip won't do you or the baby any harm. Besides, I can't have you eying the bottle like you are until I'm done with it."

She contemplated what to do for a moment then reached for it. Her lips barely touched the golden liquid before she was pushing the bottle into my hand.

I chuckled in amusement, linking our fingers together and kissing the back of her hand. She didn't even realize what an amazing mother she was going to be or how much she already loved our unborn baby.

"Look at all these women in skimpy bikinis," Isabella suddenly commented, drawing my attention to said women. "They are so… uninhibited. Who the heck wears a tiny g-string bikini at the beach and no top?"

"Europeans are a lot less self-conscious about their bodies than us Americans. Didn't you notice that most men here wear swim briefs?"

"Yeah, I mean look at that old guy in the purple Speedo." Her nose scrunched. "He shouldn't even be allowed to show that much skin. It's gross."

"The women look good though," I teased, watching her attentively.

As expected, her head whipped around as her blazing eyes narrowed at me. She opened her mouth to speak when my phone began ringing, and I reached for it, doing a double-take when I saw Emmett's number flashing on the screen.

"Yeah?" I answered tentatively.

"Hey. I just called because I need to take a look at the Sanchez file and I can't find it. I called Victoria but she's not answering her phone," he said quickly.

"It should be in my office, somewhere on the third shelf."

"Yeah, okay." He paused, his regular breathing and the sound of his heavy shoes hitting on a hard surface filling the awkward silence. "So…" he began after a few seconds. "How's France?"

He was making small talk.

It was… strange.

As soon as the shock wore off, I opted to play dumb and act as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

"We arrived in Monte Carlo today. The weather is really nice, so we're at the beach right now. I don't know about Isabella, but I for one am enjoying nature's beauties."

My joke was not well received. Isabella slapped my leg hard, and I winced, looking at her wide-eyed. She was fuming.

Emmett burst into laughter on the other side of the line, and it was the merriest sound I had heard from him in a long time. "I heard that. She's going to kick your ass for that comment. Pregnant women are fierce, man."

When I didn't reply immediately, he cleared his throat, going back to sounding impassive. "Well, I found the file. Have fun."

"Thanks," I murmured, still amazed that I had gotten such a reaction out of him.

As the line went dead, I shook my head, not knowing what to make of what had just transpired between me and my big brother. Turning my attention to Isabella once again, I saw that she was glaring at me with her arms crossed over her chest. I leaned towards her, intending to kiss her, but she pulled away.

"I'm mad at you."

"What did I do?" I asked innocently.

"You know damn well what you did," she hissed.

"Oh, come on. I was just teasing you. You are the most beautiful woman on this beach."

She huffed, unimpressed with my compliment. "Nu-huh, you're not going to sweet-talk your way into my pants this time."

I smirked, running my hand up her smooth thigh. "You're not wearing any pants."

She slapped my hand away. "You know what I mean. Admit it; you were staring at that woman's breasts."

"I was not. Besides, yours are much nicer."

"So you _were_ staring," her voice got dangerously high, and I blinked, realizing she was seriously mad at me.

"I wasn't staring, I merely glanced her way," I said, speaking the absolute truth. "What's up with you? Are you really angry with me because of an innocent joke?"

"Men are such pigs," she muttered, jumping to her feet and starting to stomp away. "I'm going into the water."

"Isabella!" I called after her, but she ignored me completely, not stopping until she was immersed in water to her waist.

With a sigh, I got up and followed after her. She was still glaring daggers at me as I headed over to her, but didn't protest this time when I pulled her to me and kissed her anger away.

"I love you," I whispered in her ear. "Only you."

"I love you, too," she replied, her hand disappearing into the water and creeping its way down my stomach until it settled on my crotch. She squeezed hard enough to cause discomfort, and I gasped at the unexpected attack.

She smiled sweetly, tightening her grip. "If you want to be able to have more children, don't _ever_ even dare glancing in another woman's direction again. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am," I strained, because she literally had me by my balls.

Her smile got wider. "Good. Now, where were we? Oh yeah, you were kissing me."

_~~ 0 ~~_

"This is so exciting," she confessed later that evening as we climbed the stairs to Monte Carlo's famous Grand Casino. "I've never been to a casino before."

We were both in the mandatory formal wear; me in a tux and her in a long black cocktail dress that hugged her curves splendidly.

"That's too bad," I said as we were escorted inside by a man in impeccable uniform. "But you can't come to Monte Carlo and not see the casino. World's richest moguls come here on a regular basis. This, my lovely Isabella, is the ultimate way to spend big money."

"Have you been here many times?" she asked, looking around as we passed through the large lobby that led to the grand hall.

The marble floor had an interesting black and white pattern while the ceiling was covered in intricate paintings. The opulence kind of reminded me of my parent's house, and I chuckled to myself quietly.

"Quite a few," I replied, winking conspiratorially. "I promise we're going to have fun."

The grand hall was full of people from all over the world dressed in pretentious outfits. Beside the regular French and English, I could detect a few other foreign languages being spoken like Russian, German, Japanese, Turkish and even Greek. The women's diamond jewelry was extravagant; catching your eye wherever you turned your head, and even I had to admit that the sight was a very glamorous one. Isabella was wearing the diamond earrings I had gotten her for Christmas, but they were nothing compared to the heavy karats these women had attached to their necks and wrists.

"Where do you want to try your luck first?" I asked.

"The roulette," she said, biting on her lip anticipatorily.

"The roulette it is," I agreed, placing my hand on the small of her back as I lead her towards the roulette table. "Have I told you how absolutely stunning you look in this dress?"

"About a thousand times."

"And I'm going to tell you a thousand times more. You are breathtaking."

She blushed. "The truth is… I actually_ feel_ beautiful in this dress. Thank you for buying it for me."

"You _are_ beautiful and you have nothing to thank me for. My money is yours, you know that. You can buy whatever you want whenever you want."

If my comment bothered her, she didn't say anything. Instead she made her way through the people standing at the roulette table and reached behind her to take my hand. "You're going to have to explain the rules to me."

The croupier nodded at us in acknowledgement, going back to spinning the wheel. The white ball landed on 26 black and a low appreciative murmur echoed around the table.

"First of all, you have to purchase special roulette chips when you sit down to play. As you can see, each player receives a different color chip to avoid disputes. Each roulette table has a minimum and maximum bet. In this case the minimum bet is €10 and the maximum bet is €1000. You can make inside or outside bets. Placing inside bets is either selecting the exact number of the pocket the ball will land, or a small range of pockets based on their proximity on the layout. A _straight-up_ bet is a wager on a single number while a _split bet_ is a wager on two numbers. A _street bet_ is when the chip is placed on the vertical line separating the inside and outside betting areas. When you make a _corner bet_ it's done by placing a chip so that it's touching the four corners of the numbers you are betting..."

I went on, explaining the different type of bets she could make.

"I think I got it," she interrupted me at some point. "But, Edward, these people are betting large sums. Maybe you should play."

"Nonsense," I said gently, taking out my wallet and giving the croupier two five hundred Euro bills in exchange for chips.

"Are you insane?" Isabella gaped at me. "That's way too much money."

The other people at the table gave us strange looks, and I frowned, silently telling her that I was displeased with her unnecessary scolding.

She seemed to get the message because she blushed furiously, averting her gaze.

The croupier asked for denomination, and I broke the chips in ten, fifty and one hundred Euros before taking my place behind Isabella.

"Just play," I said in her ear, my voice firm. "It doesn't matter if you win or lose."

Reluctantly, she studied the layout, finally deciding to make an even bet. When all the bets were placed, the croupier spun the wheel once again, and the ball landed on four black. Isabella's eyes widened as she let out a surprised gasp.

"Oh my God, I won!" she exclaimed, and the others, including the croupier, applauded politely because it was her first time playing.

"Keep it up." I grinned, rubbing circles against her hipbones. "I have a good feeling about this."

In the following half an hour she had already won three hundred Euros, and I was getting thirsty, my throat parched from encouraging her vehemently.

"Do you want anything to drink?" I inquired at some point, tapping her shoulder.

"Yeah, um, just get me whatever doesn't have alcohol in it," she replied distractedly.

When I came back from the bar, I was carrying a scotch for me and an alcohol-free cocktail for her. I drank, she played, and after quite a few outstanding winnings, she was starting to lose, which was enough to make her back down.

"I think I'm done here," she sighed resignedly.

"You did great for a first time player," I comforted before asking the croupier to change our chips so we could leave the table.

"You, Mr. Cullen, are now six hundred thirty-five Euros richer," she said smugly as we walked away.

I shook my head. "Your luck, your money."

"The money's yours, Edward. I just played for fun."

"Yours," I insisted, giving her a look that said I wasn't to be argued with. "Do whatever you want with it. Please let's not start an argument over this, okay? Just take it."

"Fine, fine," she relented, knowing she wasn't going to win this. "It's your turn to play."

"Let's try the poker table," I suggested. "You'll be my lucky charm."

Hours later, as I was about to help a laughing Isabella into the rented Mercedes, she spun around abruptly and kissed me hard, her nails digging into my scalp as she grabbed at my hair.

"My God, tonight has been amazing," she breathed dreamily, proceeding to pepper light kisses across my jaw. "I never knew gambling was so much fun. I want to do it again and again and again…"

"Easy there Dostoevsky," I laughed and her brow furrowed.

"Who?"

"Dostoevsky. Aside from being one of Russia's most influential novelists, he was also an avid gambler. I thought you knew this."

She shrugged. "I didn't."

"Now you do." I smiled, smoothing my palm over her pinned-up hair. "So, where to now, Miss Swan, soon-to-be Mrs. Cullen?"

She rolled her eyes at me petulantly, taking my hand and placing it on her belly. "The baby's craving chocolate cake."

"Well then, I have an idea."

Driving back to the hotel, I led her straight to the beach, making a quick stop at the reception area to ask if we could have room service delivered outside. The receptionist was more than accommodating, promising to have our order delivered to us in less than ten minutes.

We sat on a lounge chair, this time a bit farther away from the sea, and I took off my jacket to drape it across Isabella's shoulders.

"The sea is so beautiful at night," she noted as I sat behind her and took her in my arms. "I feel like going in again."

"The water's too cold at this hour of night," I reasoned with a low chuckle.

She chuckled back. "You're right. But I still feel like going in."

"Aren't you tired?" I inquired after a brief pause, stealing a glance at my watch. "It's two forty-five in the morning and you've been falling asleep well before eleven o'clock for more than a week now."

"I am a bit tired," she admitted, her body giving a light shiver, "but I don't want to go back to our room just yet. I like it here."

"You're shivering."

"I'm fine." She turned her head to smile at me before letting out a sigh. "I love this. Us… together… happy."

"Mmhmm," I hummed in agreement, tightening my hold on her and kissing her temple. "This is definitely nice."

A few minutes of utter silence stretched between us, the only noise coming from the agitated sea in front of us. Then Isabella angled her body so that she was looking at me with large fearful eyes.

"Promise me you'll never allow anyone to drive us apart," she pleaded. "Promise me we'll always be this happy."

I was taken aback by her plea but smiled nonetheless, attributing it to her hormones.

"I promise," I said in a soothing voice, trying to calm her fears. "You and this baby are my life now. I will fight for _our_ family, regardless of the consequences. Nothing and no one is going to tear us apart."

I didn't have time to find out whether she believed me or not because the next thing I know her face morphed into a disgusted expression. "Ugh, what is that smell?"

"What smell?" I asked, glancing around to identify the source although I didn't smell anything.

"It smells like… flowers," she replied slowly, distaste rolling off her tongue.

In the short time we had been there, another couple had showed up on the beach. The woman, a short blonde woman, was straddling the man's lap while a large bouquet of pink hyacinths dangled from her left hand. She leaned over to kiss him, both of them chuckling at something he'd said.

"That woman over there is holding a hyacinth bouquet, but how can you…" I started to say, knowing they were too far away for Isabella to smell the flowers. I didn't get to finish my sentence because Isabella suddenly covered her mouth with her hand and jumped to her feet.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Her voice was muffled as she whirled around and rushed over to the sea, dropping to her knees into the water.

"Isabella!" I yelled, running after her.

I fell to my knees behind her and held her as she emptied her stomach. The cold water was soaking my skin through my dress pants, and I knew I had to get Isabella out of there as soon as possible.

"Mon Dieu!" _(My God!)_ The blonde woman screamed as both she and her husband rushed to Isabella's aid. "Qu'est-ce qui se passe? Mademoiselle, vous vous sentez mal?" _(What's happening? Miss, are you feeling ill?)_

"Tell her to get those away from me," Isabella moaned, referring to the flowers she was still holding.

"Elle est enceinte," _(She's pregnant,)_ I said, doing my best not to sound hostile but failing horribly. "Le parfum des fleurs lui donne la nausée." (_The flowers' perfume gives her nausea.)_

"Oh." She took a step back, looking at the offensive flowers horrified. "Je suis désolée." _(I'm sorry.)_

They both scurried off, stopping only to grab the woman's purse from the lounge chair before disappearing inside the hotel.

"Are you alright?" I asked, helping Isabella to her feet when she was done vomiting. The lower half of her long dress was now heavy with salty water and my dress pants weren't doing better either.

"Yeah." She nodded, keeping her mouth covered with one hand. "I hate when this happens."

"Come on, let's get you to bed," I suggested, crunching down to lift her into my arms bridal style. "You've had a tiring day, and I bet that right now you want nothing more than to rinse your mouth and get rid of that awful taste."

"This is your fault," she murmured, burying her face into my shirt.

"How is it my fault?"

"You're the one who knocked me up."

I smiled at her grouchiness indulgently. "How about I give you a nice, relaxing foot massage?"

She looked up and grinned slyly. "Now you're talking."

On our way inside, we passed a waiter who was just bringing us our order. I told him to bring it upstairs to our suite, and he obliged, not before making sure Isabella was okay and didn't need a doctor.

Once upstairs, we both undressed and slid into bed as I began massaging Isabella's feet. She was fast asleep before I even had time to move from her right foot to her left one, so I tucked her in then headed to the small kitchenette for a glass of water. When I came back into the bedroom, I stood beside the bed, watching her sleep.

The fact that she was part of my life still amazed me. I couldn't believe how far we had gotten since the first time we ran into each other at Starbucks almost a year prior.

I had never thought I was going to get another chance at happiness after Tanya's death, and yet, here she was; loving me and giving me the most precious gift a woman could ever give a man.

I could never thank faith enough for putting her in my path. She made me feel things I had never felt in my ten years of marriage, and I prayed that our relationship would always remain this strong.

She was my lover, friend, and confident, and the only word I could use to properly describe how I felt since she had made her way into my heart was…

… blessed.

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><p><strong>AN Thanks for reading!**

**Leave me some love :)**

**~ Andreea ~**


	25. Chapter 24: Shocked

**A/N Sorry I haven't had the time to reply to your reviews, but I promise I read them all!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 24<strong>

**Isabella Pov**

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><p><em>~ August 16<em>_th__, 2012 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

I hissed as a drop of hot sizzling oil landed on my hand and pulled back, throwing the pan a murderous glare. I was making breakfast, but apparently I was too distracted by daydreaming to actually pay attention to what I was doing.

Edward and I had been back from Europe for about two weeks now, and I sometimes still found myself zoning out as I remembered our time there. It had been the most amazing vacation I had ever been on, the glamorous Monte Carlo topping even beautiful old Prague.

In the fifteen days of our vacation, I had gotten to see some really incredible places like Saint-Mont-Michel and the ever famous _City of light _which had by far exceeded my expectations.

I had shopped at the most important fashion houses on_ Rue_ _du Faubourg Saint-Honoré _in Paris and walked through the _Louvre's_ great halls. I had ridden an elevator to the top of the _Eiffel Tower_ and tasted the most delicious desserts in luxurious French restaurants.

I had seen live cows in the small village of Salers and the ancient Abbey of Mont Saint-Michel. During our stay in Monte Carlo, I had been inside a casino for the first time in my life and actually won money. I rode a jet ski and swam in the warm waters of the Mediterranean Sea.

I got a beautiful tan that I was very proud of.

Needless to say that the experience of it all was something I was never going to forget.

As I was grating cheese on top of the French toast, I heard Edward shuffle his way into the kitchen and turned my head to greet him with a smile. He was already dressed for work and wearing his reading glasses, that morning's copy of the _Financial Times_ resting under his arm.

"Morning," I said cheerfully but quickly noticed that his eyebrows were knitted together in a deep frown. "What are you frowning about?

He sat at the kitchen table, tossing the newspaper on it carelessly. "I just remembered it's my mother's birthday today."

"Oh," I said, abandoning my task of grating cheese and turning around to face him as I wiped my hands on a towel. "So, are you going to call her?"

"I… have no idea," he replied, looking up at me. His expression was ambivalent, holding an uncertainty I hadn't seen in him in a long while. "I don't know what to do. Do you think I should call her?"

I sighed. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, it was obvious he still cared about his mother a lot. Knowing I was the reason for their estrangement made me feel quite guilty. Evil witch or not, she was still his family.

"I don't know, Edward," I murmured softly. "She's your mother so it's your decision. I don't want to tell you what to do."

He seemed to be contemplating my words for a minute as if he was actually considering calling her. Then he looked back at me and his expression shifted to one of annoyance as he shook his head. "What the hell am I doing? I need to remain firm on this. I won't call her."

"Edward…" I started to argue, not wanting him to have any regrets later on, but he cut me off by swiftly changing the subject.

"What are we having for breakfast? It smells good."

"French toast." I motioned to the plate lying idly on the counter.

Judging by the way he had quickly grabbed the paper and started browsing through it with exaggerated concentration, I could tell he didn't want to talk about Esme anymore.

"So, I was thinking about what we talked the other day, about me quitting my job…" I spoke up after a moment of silently watching him.

His eyes snapped up at me, his interest piqued. "And?" he prompted.

"And… I think you're right. I'm starting my Master's in a few weeks and I need to focus on my studies while I still have the time."

The corners of his mouth turned up. "Did you make your decision then?"

I nodded. I had given the idea a lot of thought the previous night during the hours when I couldn't sleep and had reached the conclusion that it was best for both me and the baby. I needed to save every ounce of energy I could; the last thing I wanted was for my self-induced exhaustion to take its toll on the baby's health. Studying for exams was demanding enough; I didn't need the added stress of a job.

"Yeah. I'm going to do it. I'm not exactly comfortable with you supporting me financially, but it has to be done. The baby exhausts me more than I ever thought he would as it is, and I really don't think I'm going to be able to handle both school and work while pregnant."

"You know that if we get married you're going to have to get used to me taking care of you," he said, staring at me sharply. "I understand your reticence, I really do, but you need to realize that I make more than enough money to support the three of us. Besides, when you've completed your studies, you can look for another job, this time as a journalist instead of a bookstore clerk."

"Yeah, I know that," I replied, although I was sure he really _didn't_ understand. "But it's going to be weird having to spend money I haven't lifted a finger to deserve."

"These feminist preconceptions most modern women have can be quite annoying, you know that? What happened to the good old days when the man had to be the sole provider for his family? I don't want to sound sexist or anything, but I'm just pointing out that there was a time when women didn't mind being taken care of, they were actually expecting it. The more wealth a man had, the better he was seen as a suitor."

I rolled my eyes at him petulantly. "We don't live in the nineteenth century anymore, Edward. The world has changed quite a lot since then in case you haven't noticed. Do I need to remind you that in those times women didn't even have the right to vote?"

"You're actually wrong," he said matter-of-factly. "Women suffrage in the US happened during the nineteenth century and early twentieth century."

I reigned in the urge to throw the towel I was holding at him. "Okay, smartass, the thing is, it's going to take me a while to get used to my new… financial situation."

He didn't seem to like my choice of words as the frown he had been sporting earlier returned to his face. "I'm going to need to add you to my personal bank account."

"Yeah, because soon I'm going to be jobless."

"Did you talk to Kate about it?"

"No, but I will today," I assured him. "I'm sure she won't mind, but I have to give her the heads up so she can look for someone to replace me."

He nodded in agreement before going back to reading the newspaper.

"Oh, and there was something else I wanted to discuss with you," I went on, a bit nervous about what I was going to ask of him.

"Well?" he urged when I remained silent, watching me intently over the thick rim of his glasses.

"I want to take a trip to Forks before the semester starts and I was wondering if you'd be willing to come with me," I said quickly, not wasting any time to add in a pleading voice, "I know you've already taken a lot of time off from work, but we wouldn't be staying more than a couple of days or so. We could go on a weekend."

I really had no desire to take that trip alone, so I was nervous about him refusing me because of his tight work schedule. But to my relief, he simply shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.

"Sure, I don't see why not."

"Really?" I smiled, surprised that he had accepted so easily.

He returned my smile. "Yes, really."

Walking over to him, I leaned down and kissed him on the lips lovingly. "Thank you. You don't know what it means to me."

"I think I do know," he murmured softly, cupping my face and stroking my cheek with his thumb. "And you are most welcome."

There wasn't any doubt now; Edward was the most amazing and attentive boyfriend any woman could ever ask for. I could ask him to take me on a trip to the moon and back, and I was willing to bet he'd find a way to make it happen.

Kissing him one last time, I straightened up and went to fetch his breakfast. As I set his plate and steaming cup of coffee in front of him, he grabbed my left wrist, bringing it to his luscious lips.

"Thanks," he murmured appreciatively, peering up at me from under his reddish lashes and making me weak in the knees. "Your appointment is at three, right?"

"Yeah," I replied breathlessly, wishing neither of us had to leave for work. I could think of at least one interesting activity we could have done instead.

"You're sure you don't want me to come?"

"No, it's alright." I smiled, smoothing my hand over his carefully styled hair. I had a plan, and I needed to stick with it. "I know you're pretty swamped at the office."

"I could _try_ to take the second half of the day off if you wanted me to. Maybe Victoria could reschedule my last two appointments…"

The mention of his assistant's name irritated me.

"I said it's okay," I said coldly, my mood taking a one hundred eighty degree turn. Pulling my hand back and crossing my arms over my prominent baby bump, I stared him down as the ugly green-eyed monster made an appearance.

"How's Victoria, by the way?" I sneered, well aware of the fact that I was being irrational in my jealousy of her.

Edward frowned, immediately understanding where I was heading with this. "She's fine. Let's not ta-"

"Still wearing those short dresses?" I cut him off abruptly, images of the beautiful redhead flashing in front of my eyes and igniting the quiet fire burning inside of me.

"What are you getting at?" he asked lowly, his question pretty much rhetorical. We both knew very well what I was getting at.

One of the downsides of being pregnant and gaining weight was the insecurity that came with every glance in the mirror. I knew Edward loved me; I could feel and see it in his every gesture. But that didn't mean I wasn't self-conscious about my body. I wanted him to still find me attractive, but to my complete dismay, I was gaining weight at an alarming rate.

Dr. Clark had assured me it was normal, but I found it hard to believe I was this large at only sixteen weeks. And I didn't mean large as in I had a big baby bump; I meant large as in _fat_. I was drowning in cellulite, and I wasn't even allowed to exercise to make it go away. The fact that I had started eating like there was no tomorrow didn't help either.

"I'm getting fat," I muttered, plopping down on a chair next to him. "And _she_'s so pretty and slim and has legs a mile long."

Edward huffed, throwing me an incredulous look. "Are you kidding me right now? I thought I made it pretty clear when I told you I wasn't interested in her. Are you really that insecure?"

"I gained six pounds in the past week alone," I said, my voice turning whiney. "At the rate I'm going, I'll be the size of China by the time I give birth. And I can't seem to stop eating. I eat like all the time now. You don't even want to know how much I weigh, although I'm sure it's pretty obvious that I'm fat."

He shook his head, pulling his chair closer to mine. "Yeah, I'll admit you gained a few extra pounds, but you're not under any circumstances fat. You look as beautiful as ever."

I gave him a dubious look. "You're not just saying that?"

"Of course I'm not just saying that," he assured me, leaning over and placing his hands on my waist. "You're always going to be beautiful to me no matter what." He captured my lips with his in a soft kiss before adding playfully, "Besides, you're so much softer in all the right places."

"You mean I'm flabby?" I replied dryly. "And I thought you liked me fit."

He let out a long breath, getting annoyed with my attitude. "You're not flabby, so please don't put words in my mouth. I do like you fit, but I like you pregnant even more."

He glanced down at his lap and back up, his expression suddenly softening. "Can't you see that I can't get enough of you? That I crave you more and more every day? But that's not even the point. You should know by now that our relationship doesn't come down to mere physical attraction anymore. In fact, it never did. I always loved you for who you are as a person, not your body."

His words made me tear up, and I quickly wiped my eyes with the back of my hand before offering him a watery smile. "I just wish I was allowed to exercise like before. I haven't been to the gym in forever."

"You could take aqua natal classes," he suggested, wiping a few more tears with his thumbs. Over the past couple of months, he had gotten used to my mood swings, so my crying fits didn't alarm him anymore. "I read somewhere that it's a great way to exercise, relax and socialize with other pregnant women."

"That's actually a great idea," I said with a quiet sniffle, perking up at the idea. "I can't believe I never thought of that. I'll have to talk to Dr. Clark about it today."

He smiled indulgently, and I rose from my chair, climbing into his lap and wrapping my arms around his neck. "You spoil me so," I whispered, toying with the short hair at the nape of his neck. "I love you."

"I love you, too, and I love to spoil you," he replied, placing small pecks across my jaw.

"You're going to be such a great dad."

"You think?"

"I'm positive. Our baby is so lucky to have you as a father."

He sighed wistfully. "I can't wait to see him, to hold him in my arms, to feed him…" he trailed off for a moment then added with a soft chuckle. "I'll even change his diapers."

"You know you will, whether you want to or not," I said in my best no nonsense voice, but I was grinning widely.

"Are you going to make me?" he said playfully, his hands creeping their way under my pajama top and rubbing at the naked skin of my back.

"Yeah," I said distractedly, arching towards him and loving the feel of his touches.

"How?" he challenged, his eyelids getting heavy as his large palms moved up front to cup my breasts, and I had to keep my eyes from rolling to the back of my head. I was so easily aroused these days.

"I'll find a way," I said, swallowing thickly, wanting nothing more than to drag him back to the bedroom. "You're going to be late for work."

"I know," he said indifferently, continuing to massage my breasts. His thumbs circled my taut nipples, and I bit my lip from moaning out loud.

All of a sudden, he pulled my chest flush to his and shoved his tongue into my mouth, giving me a toe-curling kiss. This time, I let out the moan I had been trying to suppress, and he grabbed hold of my hips, starting to grind me up and down on him with purpose.

I was more than tempted to let him have his way with me right then and there, but I knew we couldn't. He had an early meeting with a new client, and I had to be at work in about forty minutes to open up the bookstore.

"You didn't even touch your breakfast," I protested between our heated kisses.

"I know that, too."

He went on, assaulting my lips and neck and every inch of skin he could find, and I had to end this before it went too far. "Okay, we need to stop or we'll never leave the house today," I breathed, pushing against his chest.

Reluctantly, he let go but didn't seem too happy about it. He glanced at the French toast then at the wall clock before lifting me from his lap and waving me off. "Go sit as far away from me as you can or I won't be held responsible for my actions."

_~~ 0 ~~_

It was about a quarter to noon that same day when I got an unexpected call from Alice. Slowly getting up from the sofa in the reading area, I left Kate to the book she had been reading as I made my way behind the sales counter and sat down.

"Yeah?" I answered, folding my legs underneath me and leaning back into the comfortable chair as my free hand went to rest on my stomach.

"Hey, stranger," she greeted cheerfully, and I was glad to hear her voice.

"Hi, Alice. How have you been?"

"Good, good. And you?"

"The same."

"I haven't had the chance to see you since you came back from France, so I was thinking maybe we could get together for lunch. Do you think you can spare me an hour of your time?"

"Yeah, sure," I said, knowing I had to leave earlier for my appointment anyway.

I had announced to Kate that I intended to quit my job, and to my utter surprise she'd said she already had someone to take my place. That's how we decided that starting with the following week, I was going to be replaced by her best friend's son, Eric, who was just about to start his first year of college and needed a new job.

"Where do you want to meet?"

"Let's say _Café Des Architectes _at half past noon. I love that place."

I could still very vividly remember the one and only time I had been to _Café Des Architectes, _the evening I met Jasper and Alice_. _Not only was it very sophisticated and high class, but it was also expensive. Way too expensive.

Fortunately, I still had my last two pay checks in the bank, so money wasn't going to be a problem. Since moving in with Edward, he never let me pay for anything, so every penny I had earned in the past couple of months was sitting in my bank account waiting to be spent. For the first time in my life, I could actually go to an expensive restaurant and not worry about the bill.

I got there ten minutes late and found Alice waiting for me at a table in the corner. Next to her on a black leather chair sat Jessica, whose blonde hair had grown so much it was reaching the middle of her back. She saw me walk towards them and jumped to her feet, running over to give me a hug.

"Bella, hi!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing my cheek.

I pulled back to take her in and noticed how tall she had gotten in just a few months since I hadn't seen her. She was only fourteen, but it was clear as day that she was going to inherit her father's impressive height and her mother's slender shape.

She was wearing a white dress that accentuated her blossoming cleavage and long shapely legs, and I had to keep my mouth from hanging open. A small pimple carefully covered by foundation adorned the corner of her upper lip, and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. She looked less like a little girl and more like a teenager who was going to give her parents hell with her smart mouth and volcanic personality.

Her ice blue eyes sparkled with joy as they ranked over me, finally settling on my stomach.

"You're wearing make-up," I blurted out, causing her to chuckle sheepishly.

"Uh… yeah; just a bit of foundation and mascara."

I glanced at Alice who was smiling amusedly then back at her. "Jess, what are you doing here?"

"Aunt Ali has the day off and she picked me up from my dance lessons. She asked if I wanted to see you and I said yes." She shrugged, placing her hand on my belly. "Wow, you're really showing."

"Well, I'm four months pregnant," I replied, still amazed that I was talking to the same little girl I had met a year prior.

She beamed at me. "I'm so happy for you and Uncle Eddie. He's going to be an awesome dad."

"Are you two ever going to sit down?" Alice spoke, motioning to the empty seats. "I don't like craning my head to look up at you."

Jessica rolled her eyes, but retook her seat, and I occupied the chair beside her. They had already ordered their drinks, and as soon as my butt touched the cushiony chair, a waiter materialized out of thin air with my menu. I asked for a glass of orange juice, and since we were all there, we also placed our food orders.

"Does Rosalie know she's here?" I asked Alice as the waiter departed.

At my question, her eyebrows arched in surprise. "She actually does."

"And she's okay with it?"

Jessica sighed from beside me. "My mom knows you're not a bad person, Bella, and that you make Uncle Eddie happy. She's just… _difficult _sometimes."

_Difficult_ wasn't the word I would have used to describe Rosalie, but I didn't want to say anything bad about her in front of her daughter.

"Edward told me it's Esme's birthday today," I said, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.

Alice groaned softly, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "She's having a dinner party that neither one of us is allowed to miss."

"I was thinking of faking menstrual cramps." Jessica grinned knowingly, leaning back into her chair. "Dad always falls for that excuse. I bet he'll let me stay home."

"Lucky you," Alice muttered, narrowing her eyes at her. "I can't fake my way out of it."

"How is she?" I inquired, not even needing to clarify who I was referring to.

"Pretty much the same," she said vaguely, watching as the waiter placed my glass of orange juice in front of me.

Jessica shook her head at her aunt's answer, her fingers playing with her napkin. "To be honest with you, grandma kind of scares me. I dread Saturday dinners at her house. Dad says she's going to get better, but I don't know about that. She seems to be getting worse to me."

"Hey, how about we stop talking about Esme?" Alice gave her a pointed look before turning to me with a smile. "Bella, tell us how France was."

I returned her smile. "It was amazing, although Monte Carlo was downright breathtaking. That place is the stuff dreams are made off."

"Did Edward take you to the casino?"

"Yeah, I actually won six hundred Euros playing roulette," I said proudly.

"Oh, I love playing the roulette. The last time I went to Monte Carlo was almost four years ago when Tanya was still healthy. They were trying to work through their marriage so Jasper suggested all six of us take a trip to Europe. It was actually a great trip. I remember drunk Emmett stumbling over a lounge chair and falling into the hotel's pool and taking a poor unsuspecting waiter with him."

I chuckled, glancing over at Jessica. "Should you be telling that in front of his daughter?"

Jessica rolled her eyes, waving me off. "I don't care."

"See? She doesn't care," Alice brushed it off, propping her elbows on the table and leaning towards me. "So, tell us about the baby. How does it feel being pregnant?"

"It feels okay so far. I hate the puking and morning sickness, but aside from that and a bit of fatigue, I haven't experienced any other major symptoms," I confessed, reigning in the urge to complain about my weight.

"I can't even begin to imagine what it's like having a little person inside of you," she said dreamily, her eyes glued to my belly.

"I still can't believe it's happening to me; I'm actually going to be a mother in just over five months. To tell you the truth, I kind of love being pregnant. It was scary in the beginning, but now I can't wait until he's born."

"He?" they inquired in unison, Jessica's eyes becoming the size of saucers.

"Yeah, Edward and I decided we're going to pretend it's a he until we can find out the sex. Although I'm secretly hoping it's a girl," I said, rubbing my stomach lovingly. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm going to love this baby no matter its sex, but I'm kind of wishing for a little girl."

Alice nodded in understanding. "What future-to-be mother doesn't dream of a little girl? Besides, boys don't like shopping. Girls on the other hand…" she trailed off smirking, "well, let's just say that if I ever have a daughter, I'm going to make her my new shopping partner. Between the two of us, Jasper's going to go broke in a matter of months."

We all laughed at that, and Jessica turned to look at me curiously. "Are you and Uncle Eddie going to get married now?"

"We're going to wait until the baby is born to decide if we want to get married or not. I mean, we _do_ want to get married, but I think it's better if we wait a little longer. Now would definitely not be the right time to plan a wedding, don't you agree?"

She didn't seem to care that much about my answer because I didn't even get to finish my sentence before she blurted out in a squeaky voice, "Uncle Jasper proposed last night."

My head whipped around so quickly, I thought I was going to break my neck. "What?" I gasped, staring at Alice open-mouthed.

"Yeah." She bit on her lip, holding up her left hand where a gorgeous asscher-cut diamond ring rested. The large center stone was sparkling strongly in the sunlight coming from the large windows facing her, while the other smaller diamonds set on the double band completed the look, making it one of the most beautiful engagement rings I had ever seen.

"Oh my God, why didn't you tell me earlier?" I said excitedly, taking her hand in mine to give the ring a better look. "I didn't even notice it. It's gorgeous. Congratulations!"

She smiled, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "Thanks. Jasper has great taste in jewelry and he knows me so well. It's exactly what I would have chosen for myself."

"It's not as big as my mom's but I think yours is prettier," Jessica commented, and Alice chuckled.

"Rose's ring has a ten carat diamond. Mine's only four. But yeah, I agree, mine's much prettier."

Their conversation about engagement rings made me wonder about Edward's pick for me if he were to propose. Would he choose a regular solitaire ring or one of those emerald-cut ones with rocks so big you went blind by just glancing their way? If I was being honest with myself, I didn't even know what I liked, so I guessed that whichever style he deemed fit to adorn my finger was going to be fine by me.

But my train of thought was carrying me too far into the uncertain future, so I had to pull myself back into the present.

"Did you set a date yet?" I asked, reaching for my glass and taking a sip of orange juice.

"Not really, but I want to get married in the summer, so probably sometime next summer."

I nodded, trying not to think too much about the fact that an outdoor summer wedding had been my dream since ninth grade. "Does Esme know? I bet she's happy."

"We haven't told her yet, but we plan on making the announcement tonight over dinner."

"So, how did he propose? He just popped the question or…"

"Well," she began, her smile widening, "last night was our nine year anniversary."

"Wow," I breathed incredulously, "You guys have been together that long?"

"Yeah. Anyway, we went to see a movie then had dinner at a nice restaurant before heading to his place. He was really agitated the entire evening, but I just assumed it was work stress. By the time we made it home, he was so nervous he was trembling. Panicked, I asked him what's wrong and he just fell to his knee in front on me right in the middle of the foyer. You can imagine my utter shock at seeing him pull out a blue jewelry box from his jeans' pocket."

"I wish I was there to see Uncle Jasper all sweaty and shaky with nerves kneeling before you," Jessica laughed, looking at me with twinkling eyes.

Alice shook her head, but she was still smiling. "He scared the bejesus out of me. I thought something was really wrong."

"Mom told me that when my dad proposed to her he couldn't even get the words out. His face was beat red and he kept stuttering and stuff."

"Your dad proposed to your mom when they were still in high school," Alice pointed out.

"How long have they been married?" I was curious.

"Since their first year of college," Jessica answered.

I turned to Alice. "And Esme agreed to her son getting married so young?"

"I guess." She shrugged. "I wouldn't know because Jasper and I weren't together back then."

Just then Jessica's iPhone began to ring, and she picked it up from the table, frowning when she saw the caller id.

"Speaking of my dad…" she muttered, bringing it to her ear. "Yeah?" She listened to what Emmett had to say before speaking. "I'm with Aunt Ali and Bella… Uh huh… But why? I'm going to be seeing her tonight anyway... Fine… Yeah, Dad…" Then her voice lowered to a whisper as she blushed furiously. "I haven't called you daddy in months… Fine... I said fine… Bye."

"What did he want?" Alice wanted to know.

"He told me to call grandma and wish her a happy birthday," she said, making a face as she shoved the phone into her yellow puffer backpack. "I don't want to."

"You can call her later," Alice comforted, giving her a sympathetic look. "You don't have to do it right now."

Jessica sighed, slumping back into her seat, and I stole a quick glance at my watch. "I have about an hour left before my doctor's appointment at three."

"For the baby?" Jessica asked, suddenly getting excited.

"Mmhmm," I hummed affirmatively. "I haven't told Edward yet because I want to surprise him, but Dr. Clark said that we're going to see if we can find out the sex today. I'm going to undergo a 3D ultrasound."

Alice clasped her hands in front of her. "We'll go with you. I want to be there when you find out. Besides, who knows, pretty soon Jasper and I might decide to have a baby, too."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Later that evening as I relaxed by taking a warm bubbly bath, I was still feeling the effects of the news. The early 3D ultrasound had revealed that we were going to have a baby boy, and Dr. Clark was more than ninety per cent confident of its accuracy. Now all I had to do was let Edward know that he had partially won the bet. I knew he should have been there with me when I found out, but I just wanted to see his face when I gave him the news so unexpectedly. He was going to be over-the-moon happy.

As for me, I was floating on cloud nine while still trying to grasp the fact that I was going to be the mother of a beautiful baby boy. I had cried when Dr. Clark uttered the words, but not because I was disappointed that I wasn't going to have a daughter but because I was so incredibly euphoric. My emotions were still very much all over the place, and it took all I had in me not to call Edward and tell him over the phone. He was going to be home soon, and even though I couldn't drink, I already had a bottle of champagne waiting in the freezer. Tonight was for celebrating.

However, what made this specific day so strange was the fact that there were three reasons to celebrate in the Cullen family, but only two of them were seen as such. It made me wonder what it would have been like if Esme and I got along. We would have probably been at her house right now, giving everyone the news, and she would have been happy for us. But it seemed that destiny had something else in store for us; something that not only no one expected but was also going to change _everything_.

When I was done with my hot bath, I wrapped a long towel around me and headed straight for the bed, plopping down on it and waiting for the water to stop sweating from my body so I could dry off and get dressed. I had planned on wearing some sexy lingerie for Edward to round off the surprise nicely, but just minutes after collapsing into the cool sheets, I heard the front door open. Trying to get dressed now was useless, so I simply lay where I was, waiting for him to make an appearance.

"Mmmm, I like what I'm seeing," he said, his voice appreciative, and I opened my eyes to see him stand in the doorway. He was pulling at the tight knot on his tie, his intense gaze trailing over me hungrily.

"Hi." I smiled, my heart starting to beat frantically and my stomach churning nervously.

"Hi," he murmured, tossing his tie on the back of an armchair as he made his way over to me. "You look very… wet."

I chuckled. "That's because I _am _very wet."

He smirked, stopping in front of me and starting to unbutton his shirt. "I think we should do something about it."

"You can towel me off," I said innocently.

"I had something else in mind," he replied, letting the shirt fall on the floor as he climbed on top of me, propping himself on his elbows to sustain his weight.

He leaned down to kiss me gently, and I wrapped my arms around his back, holding him to me. He headed south to nuzzle my barely covered breasts, and his action was both loving and arousing.

"Mmmm," I hummed, feeling his hardness press between my parted legs. "Someone's happy to see me."

"He's _very_ happy to see you. I am too."

"How was work?" I asked, making small talk before the big announcement.

"Tiring. But I feel much more reinvigorated now that I'm home." He smiled, pressing harder against me. "Can't you tell?"

"Oh, I can tell alright," I said breathlessly, running my fingers through his hair. "Did you find out that Jasper and Alice got engaged?"

"Yes, he called me this morning."

"They make such a nice couple."

"We make a much nicer couple," he joked, looking down at me with twinkling eyes. "When are _we _going to get engaged?"

"Well, you haven't proposed yet," I retorted, thinking about the bet he'd won and what I owed him.

His expression suddenly became serious. "Do you want me to?"

"I do," I said sincerely. "Next year."

"Next year it is," he said, obviously relieved that I hadn't flat out refused him. "Now, where were we?" "Ah, yes…" he went down towards my breasts, taking a nipple between his lips and suckling noisily.

"Oh, God," I moaned, sensing how the lust between us was escalating dangerously. I had something important to tell him, but what he was currently doing was really distracting.

"Name's Edward, baby," he answered, reaching to his pants' front and starting to fumble with the zipper. He got them undone quickly and pushed them past his hips along with his black boxer briefs, all the while his mouth never leaving my skin.

The sight of his erection springing free made it hard for me to think, and I panted, spreading my legs wider. "Shut up, your cockiness is ruining the moment," I said, urging him to get started already.

"You like my _cock_iness," he said, rubbing against my folds to get me ready for him, and I pushed my hips forward, searching for more friction.

Talk could wait. Right now I needed him so badly I felt like I was about to implode if he didn't get on with the program already.

His phone began vibrating against my calf insistently, and I groaned at the interruption. "Turn it off. Now."

Breathing heavily, he jumped to his feet, his boxer briefs and pants hanging around his hips, and shoved his hand into one of the front pockets, looking for the offending object. When he found it, he glanced down at the display and frowned.

"It's Jasper," he announced, and I let out another suffering groan, knowing he was going to take the call.

"Yeah?" he spoke into the receiver, starting to pull his underwear back up.

His erection disappeared behind the dark material, and I sighed, turning onto my side and propping my head on my elbow as I watched him. As he listened to what Jasper had to say on the other side of the line, his face went from its healthy pink color to white in a matter of seconds. He looked like he was about to be sick, and I sat up quickly, the towel falling from my body completely.

Something was really wrong.

"I'm on my way," he finally croaked before hanging up and looking around dumbfounded for a moment. Then he leaned down and pulled his pants up before grabbing his shirt from the floor and throwing it on in a haste.

"Edward, what's wrong?" I asked, standing up and feeling as if an invisible hand was strangling me. "What happened?"

He shook his head, not even meeting my eyes as he continued to button his shirt furiously. "It's my mother. She tried to kill herself."

I didn't even have time to process his words before he was heading out of the bedroom. Seconds later, the front door slammed behind him, and I just stood in the middle of the room, staring after him blankly.

* * *

><p><strong>AN Well, well… Esme's back in full force it seems.**

**And yeah, that engagement ring was for Alice not for Bella… teasers can be deceiving :D**

**Oh, and Bella's not fat, she's just paranoid.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~ Andreea**


	26. Chapter 25: Guilty

**A/N First of all, I'm really sorry that it took me so long to update. **

**Secondly, I have to give you guys a little warning… Edward's not thinking very clearly, especially in the beginning of this chapter.**

**That being said… enjoy?**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 25<strong>

**Edward Pov**

* * *

><p><em>~ August 16<em>_th__, 2012 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_Guilt._

It was Nicholas Rowe who once said that _Guilt is the source of sorrow, 'tis the fiend, Th' avenging fiend, that follows us behind, With whips and strings._

As I rode the elevator to the first floor, all I could think about was that this was happening because of me. I had treated my mother badly, and my mistakes were projecting over my conscience, burdening me with the knowledge that my actions had triggered such a horrible and unexpected event.

I felt sick. My palms were cold and sweaty while large droplets of ice-cold perspiration ran down my temples, causing shivers of dread to wriggle their way through my body. My stomach was churning from nerves, and to make matters worse, the urge to double over and vomit was becoming stronger with each descending floor.

Closing my eyes for a split second, I wished for it all to be a bad dream, but when I opened them again, I was faced with the same dull, metallic gray of the elevator doors. It was real. My mother had tried to end her life, and it was a dishartening reality to concede that I was the one to push her over the edge. It was _my _fault. I could feel the heavy weight of my culpability like a millstone attached to my very soul.

I had been too hard on her. The punishment I had inflicted upon her was too cruel. I should've given her a second chance. I should've done everything in my power to make things right. Instead of kicking her out of my life, I should've thought of a softer approach to make her see reason. I should've done anything but what I did.

Emmett had been right. I was a jerk and she didn't deserve all the bullshit she had to put up with over the years. She wasn't perfect, but neither was I; so why blame it all on her when in fact our estrangement had been mostly my fault? _I_ had been the one to push her away all my life. As a teenager, I had hurt her with my selfish, rebellious ways, and now in my adult years I continued to hurt her with my distant behavior.

I couldn't help but wonder _what if_? What if her suicide attempt hadn't failed and instead of being in the hospital she could be dead? I would have never forgiven myself for being the source of her pain; the reason behind her desperate act. I needed her to know that despite our recent differences and the fact that we had never been very close, she was my mother and I cared for her deeply. She had to know that there was still time for us to make things right. There was still time for her to prove that she _could_ be the mother I had always longed for.

As the elevator doors opened and I started rushing towards the garage, my thoughts flew to Isabella and a wave of remorse washed over me. I knew it was wrong of me to leave her like I had but the impact of the news had been so great, I didn't even have time to think. All I wanted was to get to the hospital as soon as possible. I need to be there for my mother right now, and I knew Isabella would understand that.

Making a mental note to call her when I got there, I unlocked the car and got in, wincing when I sat down too abruptly and a dull pain shot through my lower back. I swore under my breath, cursing the day when that god-dammed car crash happened before turning on the engine and heading for the exit.

I arrived at _Northwestern Memorial Hospital _about ten minutes later. Heading towards the front desk, I was greeted by a bored-looking young blonde. After briefly consulting her computer, she told me that my mother had just been moved to one of the private rooms on that same floor, and I thanked her before making my way down the hall as instructed.

As I rounded the corner to the small waiting room, I was greeted by a sight I was sure I was never going to forget. My entire family was there, seated on the hard plastic chairs, different shades of despair written on each of their faces. They were all dressed to the nines, their expensive, formal clothes creating a strong contrast with the room's sterile environment.

My father, whose bowed head was cradled between his hands, was looking down at the floor, his eyes half-closed. Next to him, Jasper and Alice were holding hands and seemed to be talking quietly. A crying Rosalie was being held by her husband whose blank stare was aimed at the opposite wall, while a remorseful-looking Jessica stood in a corner with her arms folded over her chest almost protectively. She was the first one to spot me, and her eyes widened before lowering to the floor immediately.

Noticing her unexpected reaction, Jasper's head turned in my direction. He unfolded his tall frame from the uncomfortable chair and made his way over to me, clasping his hand over my shoulder in silent consolation.

"Where is she?" I demanded to know, grabbing hold of his wrist and squeezing nervously. "Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's stable now," he said, his voice low. "Dr. Smith is with her. He's an excellent doctor, so she's in good hands."

I let out a sigh of relief, tightening my hold on his wrist before letting go.

"Thank God," I murmured, running my hands over my face and finally feeling like I could properly breathe again since finding out. "What happened?"

He sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. "She overdosed on sleeping pills."

"How?" I blurted out, needing to know. "I mean why? Why would she do such a thing?"

"I don't know. One minute we were all at the table, enjoying dinner and making conversation, and the next, we heard Rosalie scream for help from upstairs. Mom was taking too long in the bathroom, so she went to look for her, only to find her passed out on the floor with the empty pill bottle in her hand."

"But why would she want to kill herself?" I asked, tormented by the belief that I had been the cause. "It's her birthday. Everyone told me she was planning this big dinner party, and… I thought she was happy. I thought she was going to be even happier that you finally proposed to Alice."

Jasper shook his head again. "We didn't get to tell her the news."

"Then why?" I insisted, my fingers creeping their way into my hair and tugging so hard it hurt. "I just don't understand."

"You want to know why?" Rosalie snapped, rising abruptly and walking over to me, her high heels hitting the white tile furiously.

"It's because of you. She did that to herself because of _you_," she accused, wiping some of her tears away and pointing one long, perfectly manicured nail at me. "First you throw her away like trash, you hurt her in the cruelest of ways, and then she has to find out from Jess that you're going to have a son. She couldn't take it anymore. You should be ashamed of yourself."

I felt all color drain from my face at her words. "What did you just say?"

I knew she was hurting. After her mother's death a few years back, she had gotten really attached to mine, but she didn't make any sense. How could Jess have known that I was going to have a son?

I stared at her dumbfounded, but she didn't even seem to notice my complete consternation as she went on.

"You heard me. You've always been such an asshole to her, but this time you went too far. Just look at what you made her do. How will you live with yourself now, knowing that you caused all this? That you're the reason why she attempted suicide?"

"Rosalie, that's enough," Emmett interfered, suddenly materializing beside us. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him, his intense gaze boring into mine. I felt as if he was trying to tell me something with his eyes, but I couldn't figure out what. Still keeping my gaze, he said firmly, "It's not Edward's fault."

"How can you say that, Emmett?" she turned to him with outraged red-tinted irises. "Everyone here knows how badly he's always treated her. He didn't even call to wish her a happy birthday. How do you think she felt when she had to make up excuses for his absence, huh? I'll tell you how she felt. She felt distraught. She felt abandoned. By her own damn son!"

Her voice broke and she started crying again as she uttered the hurtful words. When she was done pinning Emmet down with her fierce stare, she turned back to me. "All she ever did was love you, and _this_ is how you pay her back? You don't deserve her. You're the lamest excuse for a son I've ever seen."

"You need to calm down," Emmett said, his hand visibly tightening his hold on her. "Let's take a walk."

"I don't want to take a walk," she protested heatedly, trying to pull away from him and failing under his overpowering strength.

"I said let's take a walk," he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't want you making a scene here."

She must have sensed something in his tone because she didn't say anything else in return. Jutting her chin out defiantly, she started stomping away, and he followed, but not before throwing me one last meaningful look.

I just stood there and watched them walk away, still extremely confused about the comment Rosalie had made regarding the baby. A soft weight pressing against my chest woke me up from my reverie. Looking down, I saw Jessica hugging me, and it took me a minute to force my body to function again and respond in kind.

"It's not your fault, Uncle Eddie," she whispered, her innocent eyes begging for forgiveness. "It's mine; I told her about the baby."

"What did you tell her, Jess?" I managed to find my voice.

"That you and Bella are going to have a baby boy. I didn't mean to upset her. I was so happy for you, and I just… I said it."

I was reeling. It was all too much to take in. I could hear her perfectly, and yet, I had a hard time grasping the importance of what she was telling me.

"How do you know that Isabella and I are going to have a son?" I rasped, blinking rapidly.

"She had an ultrasound today," she replied as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Aunt Ali and I were there. We saw the baby, he is so beautiful. It was amazing, uncle Eddie."

My expression must have turned murderous because the next thing I knew Alice was standing before me, looking absolutely horrified.

"She meant to surprise you," she explained softly, wringing her hands nervously. "Please don't be mad at her. She was so excited to know she was giving you a son."

A bitter chuckle escaped my throat unwillingly. "Well, she surprised me alright, but not in a good way."

She was about to say something else when the doctor who had attended to my mother showed up holding a chart. My train of thought was immediately sidetracked, the bitterness I felt at finding out the unexpected news morphing into fear for my mother's condition. Dad jumped to his feet quickly when he saw him, rushing over to where we were standing.

Dr. Smith started giving us a very long and detailed explanation regarding my mother's state of health, but I had a very hard time just standing there and listening to him. I wanted to see for myself that she was okay.

"… fortunately, the dosage wasn't enough to become life threatening or to cause any permanent damage. She's going to be just fine."

"But I thought she ingested the whole bottle," Jasper commented, his brow furrowing.

"No," the doctor said, shoving one hand into his coat's front pocket and adopting a more relaxed position. "She must have ingested about five or six sedatives, that's all."

"Can we see her?" I asked impatiently, glancing past him and trying to figure out which way he'd come from.

"Yes, one person at a time only. But I must say she's been asking for Edward quite insistently."

"That's me," I said, my heart starting to beat frantically in my chest. "Can I go in?"

"Sure. Just make sure not to say anything that could upset her," he advised, and before I had time to ask him to lead the way, his expression hardened. "Also, while you're all here, I would suggest she sees a therapist as soon as possible. Suicide attempts, even feeble ones, are not to be taken lightly. She needs professional help and that's something both her and the family have to come to terms with."

"We understand," Dad said solemnly, speaking for us all. "You can rest assured that this unfortunate event will not be taken lightly by any of us."

Dr. Smith nodded approvingly before motioning for me to follow after him. He led me to my mother's room but didn't come in, saying he had a few other patients he needed to see.

Taking a deep breath, I worked up the courage to knock on the door softly before opening it and peering inside apprehensively. My mother was lying in the pristine hospital bed, her head angled towards the window. Slowly, she looked my way and a weak smile turned up the corners of her mouth.

I wanted to smile in return but couldn't. The sight of her, so frail and thinner than I'd ever seen her, made me want to run for the hills. The whole scene unfolding in front of me was so unnatural, for a moment I actually doubted it was real. It was frightening. My mother was the strongest person I knew, and the small woman lying helplessly just a few feet away didn't resemble her at all. She had heavy bags under her eyes; her hair was pretty much in complete disarray compared to her usual stylish curls; her lower lip bore a deep, angry-red cut, and the left side of her face presented a large bruise that extended from her cheekbone to her ear.

"Edward," she whispered, and the guilt gripping my soul was so fierce, my knees almost gave out on me.

"Hey, Mom," I said in a strangled voice as I slowly approached her bed.

"You came."

"Yeah." I sat down on the edge of the bed, reaching for her hand. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything."

"It's okay," she assured, lifting her other hand to caress my cheek. "You're here now, that's all that matters."

"Yeah, I guess" I agreed, overwhelmed by the situation we were in. "Happy birthday, Mom."

Her smile widened. "All I wanted was to see you on my birthday, and I got my wish. You're really here."

"Why did you do it?" I inquired, leaning into her touch. "What were you thinking?"

At my question her smile faded and she averted her gaze. "I… I don't know. I was just so unhappy. I wanted to die and make all the pain I was feeling go away forever."

Her words hurt so much and made me feel so ashamed of myself that I too had to look away for a moment.

"I've missed you," she spoke again, breaking the silence that was starting to set. "You can't even begin to imagine how much."

I sighed, glancing back at her. "I've missed you too and I'm so sorry to be the reason behind this desperate cry for help. I never wanted for things to get to the point where you felt so desolate as to do something like this."

All of a sudden, her brown eyes watered and a single tear slid down her cheek. "Promise me you'll never again leave me. Promise me, Edward."

"I promise. I'll always be here for you. Just… please don't ever do something like this again."

"Tell me you love me," she demanded more heatedly, squeezing my hand. Her eyes turned fiery, burning through my very soul, and for a brief second a strange sense of dread traversed my entire body.

I tried my best to smile reassuringly. "I love you, Mom. I always have and I always will."

Her face lit up with pure satisfaction as she pushed back into the soft pillow and patted my knee. "Is she here?"

"Who, Isabella?" I asked, my eyebrows knitting together, and she nodded. "No, she stayed home."

Mom snorted unceremoniously. "Go figure; she doesn't give a crap about whether I live or die. Pardon the language."

"That's not true," I argued, once again feeling bad that I hadn't at least asked if she wanted to come along. "I simply left in such a rush that I didn't even ask her if she wanted to come with me."

"Good," Mom stated, not seeming to care in the slightest that Isabella had been left behind.

"She's not a bad person, Mom. I don't get why you're so aga-"

"Let's not talk about _her _anymore," she cut me off, holding her hand up. "How have _you_ been? I heard that Richardson case is going pretty smoothly. Your father is so proud of you."

She was interrupted by my phone starting to ring, and I pulled it out of my pocket only to see Isabella's number flashing on the screen. I was tempted to excuse myself and take the call, but I didn't want to upset my mother, so I decided against it and hit the silent button instead.

When I looked up, I noticed my mother watching me curiously as I shoved the phone back into my coat. Giving her a tight smile, I launched into a long story about work and the case she'd just mentioned. She seemed happy to just listen to me while holding my hand.

At some point, Rosalie showed up, practically kicking me out of the room, and I took the opportunity to call Isabella. I was still mad at her for keeping the ultrasound a secret, and as soon as her voice filled my ears, a wave of utter indignation washed over me.

What gave her the right to keep such a thing from me; to steal that momentous experience away from me? What gave her the right to make such a decision without even consulting me?

The fact that she had acted that way was not only extremely upsetting, but it also made me feel quite betrayed. She knew, better than anyone, how much I had longed for this child; how much I enjoyed every little step in this amazing journey called pregnancy.

I'd been supportive of her when she was dealing with her first trimester symptoms. I was always at her beck and call, putting up with every weird mid-night craving. I had learned to live with her extreme mood-swings that very often alternated from stand-offish and touch-me-not, to desperately clingy. I had been everything any pregnant woman could ask from her partner and this is how she repaid me?

"Hey," she said gently. "How is she? Is everything alright?"

"She's fine," I replied curtly, reigning in the urge to lash out at her over the phone. I had a bad temper when upset and I didn't want to say something that I was going to regret later. "They're letting her go this afternoon."

"I'm so glad to hear that. I was so worried."

"Listen, I'm sorry for walking out on you like that," I said, leaning against the wall and watching a nurse walk past me. "I panicked. But we need to talk as soon as I get home."

There was a brief pause before she spoke again, her voice apprehensive. "About what?"

"I think you know about what. Apparently I was the last one to find out that I'm going to have a son."

"Edward, I…"

"Save your excuses for later," I cut her off sharply, in a low voice. "I need to go now, but I'll see you at home."

"Okay," she whispered, and I could tell she was about to start crying.

"Bye."

Hanging up, I made my way over to Emmett who was seated on one of the plastic chairs, scrolling through his e-mail. He kept his gaze on the screen as I sat down beside him, but the moment he sensed my nearness, I could see his body tense. His jaw set, his shoulders stiffened, and his thumbnail started scratching down the side of his Blackberry.

"Are you mad at me, too?" I asked quietly, staring at his profile.

His tongue darted out to run a wet line across his lower lip before his teeth dug into it. He seemed to be contemplating his answer.

"No," he finally said, getting up and walking towards his daughter. Placing his arm around her shoulder, he murmured something in her ear before both of them left the waiting room at a slow, unhurried pace.

His seat was taken by my father who patted me on the back comfortingly. We sat there in complete silence, neither one of us daring to acknowledge the big elephant in the room.

_~~ 0 ~~_

I arrived home around three in the morning. To my surprise, I found Isabella waiting for me in the living room. She was sitting in the dark, the only source of light coming from the large plasma TV. Reaching to my left, I turned on the switch, and she looked in my direction, blinking rapidly as the strong light penetrated through her retina.

"You're home," she rasped before clearing her throat and unfolding her legs from underneath her. She had her hair up in a ponytail and was now wearing a pair of blue silk pajamas.

"What are you doing here?" I inquired, setting down the suit jacket I had somehow managed to grab in my hasty departure. "You should be sleeping."

She shrugged, facing away and dabbing at her eyes. "I couldn't."

"Have you been crying?"

"Yeah," she sniffed, chuckling nervously. "Stupid romantic movie."

I knew her well enough by now to realize that she was lying. The reason for her tears was me, not the movie she'd already seen two times before. It seemed that no matter what I did, the people I loved ended up being hurt.

When I didn't reply, she risked a glance at me. I stood a few feet away with my arms crossed over my chest, just watching her and trying to decide what approach to take. I didn't want to be too harsh, but she needed to understand that what she'd done was wrong.

"Exactly how angry are you with me?"

I let out a sigh, walking over to the windows and looking out at the silent city. "I'm not angry. Not anymore anyway. I guess I'm just extremely disappointed that you decided to undergo such an important ultrasound without me being there."

I was lying. Deep down, I could feel that destructive feeling waiting silently. It was like an unstable light bulb; all it needed to explode was pushing the switch at the wrong moment.

"I wanted to-"

"Surprise me, I know," I said, turning around. "You do realize that you deliberately took that unique experience away from me, don't you? I had the right to be there with you, Isabella. You should've let me decide for myself if I wanted to be surprised that way or not."

She flinched as if I had just struck her, her expression contorting into one of hurt. Getting up from the couch, she came to hug me as she pressed her face against my chest.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice muffled by my shirt. "I really am. The outcome I had in mind was a totally different one. I swear I didn't mean to upset you."

That was it. Instead of making me feel better, her apology only seemed to ignite the anger I'd been trying to suppress. Today's stress was taking its toll on me, and I needed to vent out. Unfortunately for her, Isabella was just about to become the receiver of my wrath.

Pushing her away gently, I began to pace the room, my fingers glued to my hair.

"I can't believe you allowed Alice and Jessica to be there with you, but not me, the father of this child," I said harshly, my voice rising in volume. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I said I'm sorry," she mumbled quietly, her repentant eyes following me. "What else do you want me to do? I can't take it back now."

"God, you can be so immature and irresponsible sometimes," I spat, not even bothering to censor my thoughts. "You're so fucking immature it's infuriating."

She blanched, her expression immediately hardening.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she gritted, her tone of voice announcing that she was starting to get mad herself. "You suddenly have a problem with our age difference?"

I shook my head, my legs carrying me to the windows once again. The city below appeared to be so quiet and undisturbed, such an unsettling contrast to how I was feeling inside.

"I didn't say that, but I would definitely appreciate it if from now on you thought twice before pulling this kind of crap again. We're in this relationship together; we're having this child together. You can't just go and make important decisions that concern both of us without even considering my opinion on the matter."

Taking a deep breath I went on. "And if I think better about it, yeah I'm mad. Actually, I'm fucking furious. I wish you'd grow up already and stop acting like a spoiled brat who wants everything to be done her way. You can do whatever the hell you want with your life, but I won't let you control mine. I won't let you tell me what to do. I won't accept you making my decisions for me anymore. I'm thirty-five years old for Christ's sake; I think I'm pretty capable of choosing for myself. I don't need you telling me how things should be done. I'm fucking tired of being jerked around."

"_Everyone_ in my life feels like they're entitled to dictate how I should conduct my pathetic existence. For them, either I'm doing things wrong, or I'm not doing them well enough. You were not supposed to be one of them. You were supposed to be on _my _side. I thought you were different, but apparently I was wrong."

When I was done with my little tirade, I slowly turned around, only to realize that Isabella had left the room. Knowing that it wasn't like her to walk out on me, not even when we were fighting, some of the worst scenarios started flashing through my mind.

I eventually found her in our bedroom. She had her face buried into my pillow, her body shaking with silent sobs. Any trace of anger I might have left in me after my earlier speech, vanished immediately at the sight of her, so upset and obviously hurting. For the second time that day, I felt like a complete jerk.

I lay on the bed next to her, placing my arms around her rounded stomach and kissed her hair. I knew I shouldn't have said those things to her; upsetting her was not good for her or the baby.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you. I'm sorry for the insults I flung at you," I murmured in her ear, placing loving kisses along the shell. "I'm a fucking moron. I can't seem to do anything right today. I'm just so… frustrated with what happened. I'm obviously upset and I have a lot on my mind and… I don't know, my head is pretty much a mess right now. Please look at me. I hate to know that I'm the one making you cry."

After a brief hesitation, she revealed her face, sniffing. "I should've told you that I was going to have an ultrasound today. But I knew you were swamped at work and it was still early for me to have a detailed ultrasound, and I didn't want you to be disappointed if we couldn't find out the sex. I shouldn't have held out on you like that. I'm so sorry," she added apologetically, glancing at me over her shoulder. "Please say you forgive me."

I sighed, rubbing my forehead against her temple. "I forgive you. But don't you _ever _keep such a thing from me again, alright?"

"Yeah." She nodded eagerly, her voice shaky. "I promise. I won't make the same mistake again. I feel like I'm dying when you get so mad at me; like I can't breathe."

"Don't say that," I scolded gently, knowing it was her hormones talking. "You know how I am. I have a quick temper and I tend to lash out without thinking about what I'm doing or saying, but in the end we always make up. That's just how I've always been. I can't really control myself or my mouth when I get angry."

"Yeah, I know" she said softly, assenting. She wiped her tears away before turning on her side to face me. "Do you want to see the ultrasound video? It's on my laptop. I've been watching it non stop all day today."

I smiled, brushing my hand over her cheek. "I'd like that."

"Can you please get the laptop for me? I left it on the couch."

I did as she asked, and when I returned to the bedroom, she was sitting up with her back against the headboard. I joined her and opened the laptop, placing it in my lap. Leaning into me, she clicked on the only folder sitting on the desktop, and soon I was staring at the most amazing thing in the world.

The image was blurry, pretty similar to the first one I'd witnessed a couple of months prior, but this time I could clearly see the little person surrounded by a gray aura. It was moving around restlessly, and I gasped, closing my hand over my mouth as I laid eyes on my son for the first time.

"Oh my God," I said, my exclamation muffled by my hand.

The video paused from time to time as Dr. Clark's observations appeared written in white, accompanied by a small arrow pointing to different parts of the baby's body. Isabella started talking but I couldn't even hear her. My ears plugged. My eyes blurred. My heart began beating so fast it seemed bent on tearing its way out through my chest. The hairs on my arms stood up. My skin broke into goosebumps. A wave of intense heat started warming me up from head to toe. I was in awe.

I had never seen anything so beautiful before, nor had I felt such joy. Everyone knew how emotional mothers-to-be could get, but very few actually understood what happened inside a man's soul when he was confronted with his wife's first ultrasound. Isabella wasn't my wife and this wasn't the first ultrasound for me, but the feelings it evoked were so much stronger. Here, in the comfort and privacy of my own home, I could really let myself _feel _and bask in the immense happiness that was enveloping my every molecule.

When I was finally aware of my surroundings again, I was able to catch a bit of Isabella's monologue.

"… and Dr. Clark said that his heartbeat rate is really good. You have no idea how relieved I was to hear that. Then she prescribed me some new vitamins and made another appointment for next month."

"Uh huh," I murmured, only half listening to her. "Oh, look, his foot!"

"Yeah, he has feet, Edward," she replied, amused.

"They're so big. My son's going to have big feet."

"More likely he's going to be tall and lean, just like his daddy."

"Yeah." I grinned, liking the idea of him inheriting my body structure. "He's going to charm the panties off any girl, just like his dad."

"Hey," she protested, giving me a warning look. "Don't talk about my son like that."

"What?" I shrugged. "He's going to have a girlfriend someday and they're going to have sex."

"Ugh, I don't want to hear it."

"You're getting possessive of him already?" I teased, pulling her closer and nuzzling her neck.

"He's my baby. That's what mothers do."

Her comment reminded me of my own mother, and I frowned, glancing back at the screen. She quickly realized her mistake because she sighed, throwing her arms around my neck.

"So, you won the bet," she said, changing the subject. "Or at least half of it."

"Does that mean that you'll marry me?" I asked, continuing to watch what was left of the video. I wasn't deluding myself that she was actually going to say yes, but it was worth the try.

"Someday I will," she whispered, leaning her head on my shoulder. "Until then, how about we think of a name for our baby?"

"I like David," I said, closing the laptop when the video ended. "Or Kaleb."

She scrunched her nose. "I don't know. I kind of like Anthony."

"We have five more months to decide. Let's not rush into it."

"Okay," she agreed softly, looking up at me. After a moment of silence, she bit her lip and asked, "So… do you want to talk about it?"

"What is there to talk about? She was upset; she popped a handful of sleeping pills and passed out on the bathroom floor. Rosalie was the one to find her."

"What made her so upset?"

"Jessica told her that we're going to have a son," I said, making sure to give her a pointed look.

Isabella lowered her gaze, her fingers toying with my shirt's buttons. "Oh."

"Oh is right," I admonished gently, wanting to drive home the fact that she had acted the wrong way. "You shouldn't have taken Jess with you. I love her, but she's still just a kid and doesn't realize that when it comes to my mother, a single misplaced word could have serious consequences. I'm sure her intentions were good, but the result could have been disastrous."

"You're right. I should've known better. I met with them for lunch, and when they found that out I was going to have an ultrasound, they insisted they accompany me. I did it all wrong."

"What's done is done, and as you already said, you can't take it back now. Let's hope that next time both you and Jessica learn to be more… reserved."

"I had no idea Esme's condition was so delicate," she said, her voice full of regret. "When Alice told me she wasn't well, it never crossed my mind that it could get to this."

My brow furrowed. "What do you mean by that? When did Alice tell you that my mother wasn't well?"

The moment her terrified eyes snapped to mine, I knew this was about to get ugly. She was quiet, just looking at me with what could be described as pure fear.

"I asked you a question, Isabella."

"Uh…well, I think… I think it was a couple of months ago," she stammered, swallowing hard.

I let go of her waist, getting up from the bed and putting some distance between us. "What did she tell you?"

"Just that Esme was doing really bad and that she had fallen into some sort of depression…" she trailed off when she saw the way my jaw set and my hands balled into fists.

"And when were you planning on telling me this?" I demanded, staring daggers at her from across the room.

Finding out that she had kept yet another thing from me was enough to light me on fire. I was enraged. It was one thing for her to hide the ultrasound from me, but this… this was just too much.

Now I was starting to get _really_ mad at both her and my family. Neither one of them considered it was necessary for me to know about my mother's depression, deliberately choosing to keep me in the dark. My father had thrown some hints every now and then but he had never been forward with me. They were all trying to manipulate me, and I'd had enough.

"When were you planning on telling me that she needed help? When she was six feet under and there was nothing I could do for her? Huh? Answer me, dammit!"

She got up on her knees in the middle of the bed, her eyes begging for understanding. "Alice said it was better if you didn't know. She thought it was just an act on her part to garner attention."

"Do you always do what Alice tells you to?" I accused, fuming. "I can't fucking believe you right now. I'm supposed to be able to trust in you, and yet, your actions prove that you're not worthy of my trust. You keep stabbing me in the back over and over."

"How can you say that? I was wrong, yes, but-"

"You were wrong?" I cut her off harshly. "That's the fucking understatement of the century."

"Edward…"

"You know what? I don't need this shit right now. I'm exhausted and much too angry to be thinking clearly. I'm going to take a shower then head to bed. You should do the same."

Spinning on my heels I started to head out of the room. As I reached the bathroom, I stopped to add over my shoulder, "Don't wait for me; I'm going to be sleeping in the guest bedroom."

As soon as the bathroom door closed behind me, I knew that this was going to be a turning point in our relationship.

_Guilt._

Guilt is that obsessing, nagging feeling that weights down on your heart like an ugly, unwanted trinket.

Guilt makes you feel ashamed of yourself because it has such a negative, altering effect on your conscience.

Guilt is what makes the weak even weaker.

Guilt was the feeling washing over me as I leaned against the door and closed my eyes.

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><p><strong>AN Don't you want to know how Esme got that ugly cut on her lower lip? Maybe you'll find out next chapter :D**

**Make sure to check out the Facebook group. I decided to let my readers choose the baby's name, so I created a poll where you can vote.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~ Andreea ~**


	27. Chapter 26: Betrayed

**A/N New readers – hello; sorry for not having the time to reply to your reviews.**

**Old readers – thank you for sticking with me.**

**Hugs and kisses go to MC, Nikki and Jen :)**

**This chapter I'm going to give you a word of the day. It's **_**megalomania**_** and it means: 1) A psychopathological condition characterized by delusional fantasies of wealth, power or omnipotence. 2) An obsession with grandiose or extravagant things or actions.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 26<strong>

**Isabella Pov**

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><p><strong><em>~ August 17<em>_th__, 2012 ~_**

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

I lay between the cool sheets, staring at the plain ceiling looming above me.

It must have been about two hours since Edward had closed the door to the guest bedroom, isolating himself from me. After his shower, he had gotten out of the bathroom wearing only a towel around his waist and headed straight for his chest of drawers without even looking at me. He had selected a pair of clean boxer briefs and his pajama bottoms before turning on his heels and silently leaving the room. The second I heard the door close behind him with a loud click, the tears started flowing.

Now I barely had any tears left to cry. My head was pounding, my vision was blurry, my eyes felt swollen and I had a runny nose. I wanted to get up and make myself some tea to help me calm down and maybe sleep but couldn't. I was both physically and mentally exhausted.

From time to time, I could hear soft sounds that I couldn't make out coming from the guest bedroom and knew that Edward wasn't sleeping either. I contemplated going to him. I wanted nothing more than to fall asleep with his arms around me and the smell of his body wash invading my senses. I wanted to be the one who gave in because I hated this stupid fight. But the small voice of reason at the back of my head was keeping me from acting on impulse.

I knew that I had been wrong; I shouldn't have kept the ultrasound a secret. And, including Alice and Jess had never been my intention either. But what was done was done and there was nothing I could do about it now. It never even crossed my mind that his reaction was going to be so _hostile_, or I would have dropped the idea immediately. It had been wrong and childish of me to assume that he was going to be happy that I decided to surprise him that way. He had every right to be there with me when I found out that we were going to have a son. Yes, I had willingly, but not maliciously, stolen that moment from him, and he was more than entitled to be upset about the whole thing. I had certainly learned from that mistake.

What really bothered me and hurt me the most was his unjust reaction to finding out that I knew about his mother's delicate _condition. "_Knew" was relatively speaking, because I wasn't that well informed. All that Alice had told me was that Esme was supposedly dealing with some sort of depression and that she thought it was just an act on her part. Nothing more, nothing less.

Deep down, I knew that his outburst had been the direct result of the effect the separation from his mother had had on him. Although he would never admit it out loud, he was _hurting. _No matter how strained their relationship had always been, he really cared about Esme and having to cut her off from his life hadn't been easy on him.

According to Edward, she had always been distant towards her children but especially towards him. Even Emmett, whom she loved the most, had to put up with her constant nagging and extreme mood swings. She was callous, stubborn as a mule and stricter than an army sergeant, and I suspected that her rigorous parental ways had taken their toll on Edward. On the surface, he was cool and collected and emotionally detached, but somewhere inside of him dwelled his alter ego; a momma's boy seeking affection.

However, his family issues and his suppressed frustration were no reason for him to lash out at me like he had. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I was his girlfriend, not his punching bag. I had _feelings _too_, _not to mention that I was pregnant with his child. I deserved better than this. I deserved respect.

For a brief second, the urge to pack up my things and go to Kate's place made me want to start looking for a bag. We both needed to reflect on us as a couple, and some time apart could either strengthen our relationship or break it for good. But then I realized that this was exactly what Esme wanted and decided against it. I would not let her win.

Although a few hours earlier I had been just as scared and panicked as Edward at hearing the horrible news, I now highly doubted that her suicide attempt had been real. She loved herself too much to take her own life. She was just trying to manipulate him into running back to her, and everyone seemed to have fallen for her poorly concealed ruse. I never would have imagined that she would stoop so low, but apparently she was more devious than I gave her credit for. She was a dangerous woman, capable of the most unimaginable things in order to always get her way. If I gave up now and left, I was only going to give her the satisfaction of having won an important battle in this ridiculous war she had started against me.

Besides, Edward and I were grown ups and we needed to act as such. It would have been immature of me to choose the easy way out. I couldn't just up and leave after our first serious fight, so I decided that I was going to give him a chance to fix this. After all, we had both made some serious mistakes, and we needed to sit down and just talk about it.

With that final thought in mind, I turned on my side and rubbed my hand over my stomach gently. The sun was starting to rise, and I contemplated pulling the curtains and trying to get some sleep. My stomach gave a loud growl, and I sighed, glancing over to the digital clock on the nightstand. It was six fifteen in the morning.

It was unlikely that I would fall asleep now, so I sat up slowly and covered my face with my hands. After a minute, I got up and shuffled my way to the bathroom. A single glance in the mirror was enough for me to lower my eyes and avoid meeting my reflection. I splashed cold water on my face before brushing my teeth and fixing my messy ponytail.

On my way to the kitchen, I passed the guest bedroom. Halting my steps for a few seconds, I listened for noise but couldn't hear anything and assumed that Edward had finally gone to sleep. It wasn't until later as I was sipping on my herbal tea at the kitchen table, that I heard the bedroom door open and his light footsteps heading in my direction.

Dare I say that he looked even worse than me? His pajama bottoms hung low on his hips, he had dark circles under his eyes and his hair appeared to have suffered his hands' abuse all night long.

"Hey," he said quietly, his voice hoarse.

"Have you calmed down?" I asked, taking another small sip from my tea.

"Yeah. Look, I'm sorry," he started apologetically, leaning back against the counter. "I know I overreacted and said some things I shouldn't have and I apologize for that. I was just so stressed out and-"

"Let's get something straight, Edward," I cut him off coldly, pinning him down with my eyes. "You were an asshole last night. I've wronged you, yes, but I really don't think I deserved the tongue lashing."

He opened his mouth to protest, but I held my hand up, stopping him.

"I'm not done yet," I said, the slight tremor in my voice betraying the emotions overwhelming me. "You haven't got a clue how I felt lying in that bed all alone. I felt sad and alone and completely miserable. I would have cried myself to sleep if I'd actually gotten any. At some point, I kept thinking, what is going to happen to this baby when Edward leaves me?"

He swallowed thickly. "Isabella, I would never-"

"I said I'm not done speaking, Edward. I couldn't help but wonder what I was going to do when you're finally forced to choose between me and your family, and you choose them. Because sooner or later it's going to happen; I can guarantee you that. After witnessing your reaction last night, I'm inclined to believe that between me and your mother, _I_'d be the one losing big."

I took a deep breath before going on.

"I know you love her although she treated you badly pretty much your entire life. I also know that you have a lot of guilt weighing down on you right now because you cut her off from your life all those months ago. But let's be reasonable here. It's not my fault that you two have such a rocky relationship. It's not my fault that you're not able to communicate with each other. I had some really extraordinary parents, so I have no idea what it's like dealing with such an emotionally abusive one.

"I sympathize with you, I really do, but you need to leave me out of this. She's your problem, not mine, so learn to deal with her. I was already getting used to the idea that she'll never accept me, and to be honest with you I'm starting to be okay with it. She can have her opinion about me and I'll stick to mine about her. But please don't put the burden of her maniac behavior on me. Don't throw reproaches at me because you simply don't know how to handle her. Do I need to remind you that breaking off contact with her was_ your_ decision? I didn't make you do it; I didn't even suggest it. It was your idea.

"So why lash out at me like you did last night? Yes, maybe I should've told you that I was aware of the fact that she wasn't well, but I'm going to be honest with you once again. I chose to listen to Alice's advice because to me, she seems like one of the few people in that family who actually sees Esme for who she truly is. She's not deluding herself with false hope created by deliberate neglect and disregard for the harsh reality. In fact, she was the only one to _really_ warn me about what I was in for when we first met.

"Edward, I like to think that I've come to know you pretty well, and because of that reason I realize that you're regretting your behavior towards your mother. I can accept that. She's your mother and you're entitled to feel however you want to about her. What I don't appreciate is you dragging me into your mess. It was your family's job to tell you that she was depressed, not mine. Instead of throwing insults at me, you should ask them why they decided to keep you in the dark."

"You should also think really hard about our future as a couple. You know that I love you more than life, but I'll be damned if I allow my son to be raised in this kind of hostile environment."

The moment those last words left my mouth, his expression shifted from abashed to fury.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he gritted, standing straighter.

"It's supposed to mean that if you don't get this situation under control, I can always go back to Angela. I'm sick and tired of your mother slowly and painfully driving us apart. And you're letting her."

"How can you talk like that?" he snapped, taking a step towards me. "She's in the hospital for Christ's sake!"

I swear to God I wanted to hurl my mug at him.

"How many pills did she take?" I asked, fighting really hard to remain calm.

"I can't know for sure. The doctor said about five or six."

I chuckled bitterly, my suspicions confirmed. "You consider taking five sleeping pills a genuine suicide attempt?"

His eyes narrowed at me. "What are you implying, Isabella?"

"You're a smart man; I think you can figure it out," I replied sarcastically.

"It wasn't like that," he insisted, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging hard. "I know she can be a real piece of work sometimes and yeah she's really controlling and manipulative but she'd never do anything like that. That's just taking it too far."

I got up, leaving my still half-full mug on the table. "Exactly my point."

He looked at me like he was actually considering the possibility, but then he quickly shook his head, chasing those thoughts away. "No. Just… no."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," I said over my shoulder, already starting to head out of the room.

"Wait, where are you going?" he called, his voice suddenly turning anxious.

I turned around, gesturing towards my pajamas. "I'm going to change clothes then go out for a walk."

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked, walking over to me and taking my hand into his.

I arched an eyebrow at him, trying to portray the perfect picture of unaffected when on the inside I was melting from his touch. "Don't you have to go to work?"

"I'm taking the day off," he said, bringing my hand to his lips and kissing the inside of my wrist. "So, can I come along?"

I was tempted to say yes.

"No," I answered reluctantly, starting to leave. "I'd rather be alone."

"Baby, wait," he whispered, pulling me back to him. He wrapped his arms around me, his lips peppering soft kisses along the shell of my ear. "Were you serious about going back to Angela?"

"Yes," I said softly, fighting the urge to close my eyes and lean into him.

He pulled back so he could look at me, our faces mere inches apart. "You can't do that. I love you. I promise I'll keep my temper in check from now on."

I sighed, shaking my head. "You really don't get it, do you? It's not about your temper, Edward. I love you just as you are. This is about your mother and how easily she can turn you against me."

"I know that I shouldn't have snapped at you like I did, and I'm really sorry about it. But we've had fights before. Why is this so different? Why do you want to leave me?"

"First of all, I don't _want_ to leave you, but I will if you force me to. I won't accept a man who treats me badly. I will not tolerate a partner who insults and belittles me as a way to expel his own frustrations. And yeah, we fought before, but this was the first time you actually distanced yourself from me. You pulled from me. I still can't believe you slept in the guest bedroom."

"I was upset, and I needed to clear my head that's why I chose to spend the night away from you," he said quietly, resting his forehead against mine. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

I couldn't keep the façade anymore, so I broke down and started crying. "But you did hurt me. You hurt me so bad. Can't you see what your coldness, even temporary, does to me?"

"I'm sorry," he breathed, his voice a strangled whisper as his arms tightened their hold around me. "I'm so sorry. I love you so fucking much. You don't even know how much I love you. I would do anything for you, _Bella_. I would die for you and our baby. Please don't ever leave me."

His words only made me cry harder. He stoked my hair and kissed my tears away in an attempt to soothe me, but I pushed against his chest, still upset with him.

"I'm okay," I sniffed, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. "I'm okay."

"Come, let's get changed," he coaxed. "Fresh air will do us both good."

"You should go to your mother. I'm going to take a walk in the park; I need to think and clear my head."

"I'll walk with you," he insisted, sounding like he was too afraid to let me go even for a short walk. "I can go to the hospital later. In fact, you should come with me. Mom asked about you last night."

"She did?" I inquired, suspicious.

He nodded. "Yeah."

I frowned. "I don't think that's such a good idea. I mean, the woman hates me."

"She doesn't hate you," he argued weakly. "She's just really… stubborn."

_Whatever you say, Edward_, I thought to myself. I knew better.

"Fine," I huffed, eager to get some much needed fresh air. "I'll go."

"Really?" he said, surprised that I accepted so easily.

"Yeah, but this walk I'm taking alone."

~~ 0 ~~

When I returned to the condo a couple of hours later, I found Edward sitting on the balcony, his head resting in his hands. He was still wearing his pajama bottoms but now had a ratty t-shirt on. At the sound of my footsteps, he looked up, a sad smile making its way to his face.

"Come here, please," he breathed, holding his hand out.

I hesitated for a moment, and he frowned, his eyes dropping to the floor. He looked so beaten down, almost broken. I finally felt like he was realizing just what he had done.

With a sigh, I took his hand and let him pull me into his lap.

He rubbed my baby bump lovingly, nuzzling my neck. "I can't believe that I'm going to have a son."

"Yeah, me either," I said softly. "Are you still mad about the ultrasound?"

"No." He shook his head, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and kissing my cheek. "I'm just grateful to have you and my son in my life."

I smiled, turning my head to give him a light peck on the lips. "I'm glad to have you in my life, too. You're a good man, Edward."

"If you say so," he murmured, running his palm up and down my thigh. "We should probably get going."

"I'll go put on something nicer," I said, getting up.

"You look fine."

"I don't want your mother to see me wearing cut-offs and flip flops. She'd most likely have a heart attack if I showed up like this."

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around my waist as he led me to our bedroom. "You're right. Although, it's really hot outside. I think I might wear shorts today."

I gasped in mock outrage. "You in shorts? No way."

"Yes way," he teased.

"Has your mother ever seen you in shorts?"

He rolled his eyes at me. "Of course she has. I don't wear suits all the time, you know."

"And here I thought you even slept with your suit on," I joked.

He smirked, leaning down to kiss me. "No, I sleep in the nude, I thought you knew that."

Later, as I finished putting on make up in front of the bathroom mirror, Edward stood at the foot of our bed with his arms akimbo, staring down at the two pairs of shorts lying on it. He had a light blue shirt on and a pair of black boxer briefs, but he couldn't decide on the pants.

"What do you think?" he called, "navy blue or black?"

"I don't know," I replied, putting down my lip gloss and walking out of the bathroom. "Both pairs go well with the shirt. But I think I like the black ones better."

"Black it is," he said, leaning down to pick them up. "You look good in purple."

Thanks." I smiled, twirling around. "This dress feels amazing."

He pulled the pants on and began buttoning them. "Ready?"

I shrugged. "As ready as I'll ever be."

"Let's go, then," he said, grabbing his wallet from the nightstand. "Oh, and have you seen my sunglasses?"

"No." I grabbed my bag. "I think you left them in the car."

On our way to the garage, we were greeted by Peter, who was sitting at his desk, reading a sports magazine.

Edward unlocked his car, which was parked right next to mine, and held the door for me. He smiled, and I rolled my eyes at him playfully, knowing that he usually wasn't that chivalrous. As he got in behind the wheel, I heard him groan, his right hand immediately going to his back.

"What's wrong?" I inquired, my brows knitting together.

"It's my back," he hissed, closing his eyes and leaning into his seat. "It's starting to hurt again."

"Should you see a doctor?"

"Maybe; I don't know. I'll make another appointment with my chiropractor tomorrow," he said, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed thickly. "Jesus."

"I can drive," I offered. "You really look like you're in pain."

"No, I'm okay," he protested, giving me a weak smile. "You don't have to worry about me."

"Edward…"

"I'm fine," he insisted, starting the engine and putting the car in reverse. "You only need to worry about yourself and the baby."

I shook my head disapprovingly but remained quiet. I had a sneaking suspicion where he'd gotten his stubbornness from.

At some point, during the silent ride, he placed his hand on my thigh to get my attention. "Isabella?"

I turned to look at him. "Yeah?"

"I want you to know that I meant what I said this morning. I'm really sorry about last night. I shouldn't have reacted that way. I shouldn't have said the things I said. I don't _want_ us to fight anymore, and I certainly don't want you going back to Angela. I love you."

"I _still_ love you, too," I replied playfully, my mood brightening.

He nodded, the right corner of his mouth turning up. "Good."

_~~ 0 ~~_

By the time we arrived at the hospital, it was just past noon. As we were rounding the corner to where the single rooms were, we ran into Emmett and Rosalie who were just leaving. The second Rosalie's blank gaze fell on me, her jaw set, her nostrils flaring dangerously.

"What is she doing here?" she hissed, her icy eyes fixing mine.

"Rosalie," Emmett interfered immediately, throwing his wife a pointed look.

"What?" she snapped, glaring at him. "She has no right showing up here. She's just as guilty as Edward for what happened."

Oh, bad, bad choice of words. My hormone levels were higher than ever and I was in no mood to be messed with. I'd had enough of her and was damn well ready to give her a piece of my mind.

"I have no _right _coming here?" I said, my voice rising with each spoken word. "What gives_ you _the right to judge me like that?"

"I know the likes of you. I'm willing to bet you filled Edward's head with so much nonsense, he doesn't even know what's right or wrong anymore. You're a bad person and you're going to pay for everything you did."

"Rosalie, I thought we agreed on something," Emmett said cryptically, grabbing her elbow.

She pulled her arm away almost violently. "I'm sorry, but I can't just passively stand by and watch as she tears this family apart. It's her fault we ended up in this situation. If it weren't for her bad influence on Edward, things would have been different. I feel sorry for the innocent creature that she's going to bring into this world. He doesn't deserve such an unscrupulous mother."

"That's enough, Rosalie," Edward fumed beside me. "I won't allow you to disrespect her like that. She's my-"

"Edward, shut up," I cut him off sharply, not even looking at him. My eyes were trained on Rosalie.

"You have the guts to lecture me about scruples? Where the hell are yours?" I accused, pointing my finger at her. "Where are Esme's? Where were your principles that evening, many months ago, when the both of you treated me like dirt? Oh, let me guess. You don't have any. You don't have any scruples, any principles and you definitely don't have a conscience. Your megalomania knows no limits. You both think you're so much better than me, but you're not. I'm a good person, worthy of Edward's love, and I don't need to prove it to any of you."

Blood colored her cheeks as she took a menacing step towards me. "How dare you speak to me like that?"

I laughed incredulously. "How dare I? How dare _you_ act as if I'm the devil incarnate? How can you judge me when you don't even know me? I've done nothing wrong. My only mistake is falling in love with a man whose family is obviously deranged."

Rosalie gasped as the three of them stared at me in shock. This pregnancy was making me too bold for my own good. Rosalie obviously needed to be put in her place, but I also needed to keep some semblance of decency.

"It's time to go," Emmett said, blinking rapidly at me and starting to lead her away.

"Let go of me!" she yelled as if pulled out of a trance. "Did you hear what she just said? First she calls me a megalomaniac and now this?"

Then she turned to me, her teeth clenched. "Let me tell you something, _Bella. _I'm not trying to delude myself with an inflated sense of self-esteem. I actually _am_ better than you. You don't measure up to me and my family and you never will."

"Emmett, take her home before I drag her out of this hospital," Edward said, his tone of voice menacing, and I stared up at him in surprise.

"What did you just say?" she gritted, outraged. "Did you actually fucking threaten to kick me out of here? I dare you to do it. Touch me with one finger and you'll see what I'm capable of."

"What's going on here?" asked an old nurse, suddenly materializing at my side. She peered at us severely over the rim of her glasses.

"We were just talking," Emmett said, giving her a tight smile.

She pursed her lips, crossing her arms over her chest. "It sounded to me like you were arguing. Do I need to call security?"

"No. We were just leaving.

"I'm not going anywhere," Rosalie huffed, nodding towards me. "She is."

"Yes, you are. Don't test me, Rosalie," he said in a low voice, squeezing her upper arm.

She glared down at his large hand on her and looked like she wanted to argue, but didn't. Instead, she perched her bag higher on her shoulder and stomped away without sparing any of us another glance, her heels hitting the white tile furiously.

Emmett let out a heavy sigh, his dark eyes following her.

"I'll see you later," he addressed his brother, starting to head after his wife. He jogged up to catch up to her and they both disappeared from sight seconds later.

"I'm so-" Edward began to apologize, but I cut him off quickly.

"Save it, alright? Let's just go see your mother."

We headed in that direction and Edward knocked on the door lightly before opening it. Esme was propped up in the hospital bed, looking absolutely bored to death. There were flowers everywhere, the TV was on, and the balcony door was slightly ajar to let some of the hot air in. As I stepped into the room, I noted that it was quite chilly and assumed that the air conditioning had been left on for too long. Carlisle was sitting on the couch, reading what looked like paperwork.

She turned her head and her eyes fell on our linked fingers. Almost instantly, she looked away like she couldn't stand the sight.

"Hey," Edward greeted, leading me inside and closing the door behind us with his foot.

"Hello," I said, speaking exclusively to Carlisle.

He smiled, placing his papers aside and getting up.

"It's good to see you, Isabella." He kissed my cheek, taking everyone in the room by surprise. "You look beautiful. The pregnancy is really becoming you."

I blushed. "Thank you."

"Well, I'm glad you came. I'm going to get myself some coffee. Can I bring you anything?"

"No, thank you, sir," I replied.

"Esme?" he inquired, his glance sliding over to his wife.

"No," she said flatly.

He left and Edward approached the bed, giving her the pink lilies he'd bought for her.

"Mom, you look so much better. These are for you."

"Oh, they are beautiful." She gave him a megawatt smile, smelling them. "Thank you, darling."

"Isabella picked the bouquet," he lied. I had done no such thing. "She was really worried about you."

I internally rolled my eyes and fought the urge to burst into laughter. You could see it on her face that she didn't buy it.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," I said, trying to keep a straight face.

"It was nice of you to come," she muttered, her forced smile coming out as a grimace.

Edward motioned for me to sit on the couch and he joined me, his arm going around my shoulders. "I suppose you're happy they're letting you go."

"God, yes," she huffed, watching Edward's arm like a hawk. "This awful hospital smell makes me sick and the food is horrible. I'm craving chocolate soufflé so badly."

"I'm sure Gina will be more than happy to make it for you," he assured her.

She nodded, stroking a pink petal as she looked at me innocently. "So, Isabella, you've put on quite a bit of weight, haven't you?"

I bit on my lower lip in an attempt to refrain from yelling at her that she was a mean old hag. "Yeah, well, I'm pregnant."

"Rosalie used to be thin as a toothpick when she was carrying Jessica. But I guess not all women are fortunate enough to have her figure. Oh, well, what can you do, right?" She shrugged, sensing that she was hitting a sensitive chord.

"I'll lose the extra weight after I give birth," I said, trying to sound nonchalant. Cupping Edward's cheek, I gave him a soft kiss on the lips, knowing that my display of affection was going to drive her mad.

"You'd better," she laughed nervously, watching us. "Edward likes his women thin and fit. Don't you, honey?"

"Isabella is beautiful just as she is," he murmured, looking down at me with heat in his eyes.

I smiled sweetly at him, then turned to Esme only to see her scrutinizing our loving exchange. Oh, yes. She had declared war, and I had just accepted the challenge. Edward was the prize, and I was going to win him on my side, no matter what.

His phone began ringing, and he pulled it out of his pocket, giving us an apologetic look. "I really need to take this. I'll be back in a minute."

As soon as the door closed behind him, Esme's mask fell off.

"You look fat," she spat, her expression oozing disgust as her glacial eyes took me in. "What in God's name have you been eating?"

"Seriously, Esme?" I got up, opening the balcony door widely to let the outside heat come in. "Telling a pregnant woman she's fat is really tactless."

"I was just stating a fact," she replied, throwing the flowers on the bed stand carelessly. "Why did you come? You know I don't want you here. I don't need your pity."

"I came because I know what you're up to and I'm not going to let you steal Edward from me. I have every intention of fighting for him."

Her head cocked to the side, her eyes narrowing. "So you admit this is war?"

"Yes," I said, crossing my arms over my chest and staring back at her defiantly. "Bring it on, _grandma_."

All color drained from her face at the appellative. She opened her mouth and without a doubt was about to throw something nasty at me when Edward showed up.

"I'm back." He smiled, gesturing over his shoulder. "I ran into Dr. Smith in the hallway, and he said that he'll be ready to let you go anytime now."

"Good. I can't wait to sleep in my own bed again. I spent a horrendous night here," she complained, picking up the lilies and pretending to look for a vase.

"I'm going to step out for some ice tea," I said, heading towards the door. "Can I bring you anything, Esme?"

"No, thank you," she replied, looking at me like she suspected that I intended to poison her.

I smiled at her sweetly, kissed Edward one more time then left the room. To be honest, I felt like her presence suffocated me, and I needed to put some distance between us.

At the cafeteria, I ran into Carlisle and Emmett. They were sitting at a table, seeming deep in conversation. I had half a mind to spin on my heels and go back upstairs when Carlisle's gaze met mine.

"Isabella, would you care to join us?" he called, causing Emmett's head to whip around.

I thought he had left with Rosalie. The fact that he was sitting here with his father, looking like they were discussing something important, made me apprehensive.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, approaching the table tentatively.

They both rose to their feet, and Carlisle held out my chair for me.

"Yes."

* * *

><p><strong>AN Thanks for reading!**

**~ Andreea ~**


	28. Chapter 27: Disappointed

**Chapter 27**

**Isabella Pov**

* * *

><p><em>~ August 17<em>_th__, 2012 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

"Please, have a seat," Carlisle said, nodding towards the chair he was holding out. He smiled at me softly, but there was an undertone of sadness in his voice as he uttered the words. His conversation with Emmett seemed to have affected him on some level.

"I was just about to grab something to drink," I replied, gesturing over my shoulder. "I'm really thirsty."

"Emmett will do that for you. Please, sit."

I sighed and sat down, realizing that there was no way out of this. He wanted to speak with me, and I was going to have to listen to him.

"What would you like to drink?" Emmett asked, and I looked up at him only to see his expression devoid of any emotion. He appeared so calm and serene about my being there; a vast improvement from his previous reactions towards me.

"Some iced tea, please," I said, leaning back into the plastic seat and trying to find a comfortable position.

He nodded, turning to his father. "Dad, can I get you anything else?"

Carlisle shook his head, and Emmett departed, leaving us alone. It was my second time speaking to the man sitting across from me, and yet, I felt like I had known him my entire life. There was just something about him that put me at ease, although I was still pretty apprehensive about what he had to say to me.

"So…" I began, rubbing my hand over my baby bump gently; a habit I'd developed over the past month or so.

Carlisle's eyes followed my movements for a brief second, before snapping back up to meet mine. "I know we're not really acquainted with each other and my presence might make you uncomfortable, but I think you need to hear what I have to say."

"Okay," I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

There was a small pause during which he seemed to be thinking about the best way to approach the subject.

"You see, I've come to realize that my wife's condition is more delicate than I initially thought," he went on cryptically. "I've been noticing the signs for quite some time, but I guess I just refused to acknowledge them. I was just so wrapped up in work, my job and my important clients, that I lost focus on what was really important and allowed my personal life to take second place."

He was interrupted by Emmett making his way back to the table. He had my iced tea in one hand, which he placed down in front of me, and a cup of black coffee in the other.

"Thank you," I murmured, immediately reaching for the cold drink and bringing it to my lips.

Emmett retook his vacant seat, giving his father a short nod to carry on.

Carlisle sighed. "It's no secret to anyone that our marriage isn't what it used to be. Don't get me wrong, I love my wife, but we're just not working out anymore, and there is only so much I can take. Anyway, that's not the point, and I don't think you care to hear about our marital issues. What you need to know is that this very afternoon, Esme is being transferred to a private mental health center."

"What?" I gasped, completely taken aback. "But I thought the doctor said he's ready to let her go."

"That's just what he told Edward. I knew he'd react badly to the news, so I asked the good doctor to tell him a little lie. Well, he wasn't exactly lying to him; he deliberately omitted the truth. He _is_ letting her go, but just not to go home. He will only be discharging her to the medical facility I mentioned."

"But why?" I asked, trying to wrap my mind around his words. Oh, Edward was going to be furious especially since he wasn't told the whole story. "And why are you telling me all of this in the first place?"

"I'm telling you this because I know you're the only one who can break the news to him. He's not thinking very clearly right now. I know my son well; he feels guilty about the way he treated his mother and he's going to put up a fight when he finds out. He's not going to listen to anyone but you. You need to convince him that this is for the best."

I shook my head, putting my hands up. "Look, I get it, I do, but we just had a huge fight because of Esme, and I don't plan on going through that again anytime soon. I can't have that kind of stress again; it's not good for me and the baby."

"I understand your concerns, Isabella, but you need to tell him. It's the only way," Emmett interfered, his voice low as he stared at me over the rim of his cup. "After he's calmed down and the news has sunk in, I'll deal with him. It's either that or _I'm_ telling him, but I can't guarantee he walks out of that argument with his nose still intact."

One fleeting look at his face, andI could tell he was dead serious. Although there was obviously something different about his demeanor towards me, his behavior towards Edward hadn't changed one bit. He was his older brother and still acting as such.

I debated briefly, weighing the pros and cons of another possible argument with Edward, before deciding that it was indeed for the best if I were the one to tell him. He deserved to know the truth, and I had no desire for him and Emmett to get into an ugly fight. So, I was going to stick my neck out once again and take one for _the team. _I only hoped I didn't end up being his personal verbal punching bag again_._

"Fine," I agreed. "If I'm going to tell him, I want to know what the heck is going on. What's wrong with Esme?"

"That's a question we still have to find the answer to," Carlisle replied bitterly. "I have a theory, but I'd rather keep it to myself for the time being. The fact is she's not well. She's been displaying strange behavior for quite some time now, and things are only getting worse with each passing day. Two nights ago when she tried to commit suicide; regardless of whether she actually intended to or not, we found a broken wine glass next to her on the floor. She had a bloody mouth, so Emmett got suspicious and briefly inspected the glass, only to come to the conclusion that she'd bit it so hard, she broke it. Dr. Smith confirmed it."

My eyes widened in shock. "She bit through glass?"

He sighed heavily. "Something's going on with her. We don't know exactly what it is yet, but we hope it's treatable."

"And here I thought she was always like this," I mumbled to myself.

"She wasn't," Carlisle said wistfully, and I blushed, realizing he'd heard me.

"She used to be so full of life and cheerful. We married young. I was nineteen and she was eighteen. Her father was against our marriage at first, but we loved each other and nothing else mattered. My parents helped us financially, so we could continue our studies. They paid for our wedding; they bought us an expensive apartment as a wedding gift and gave us a generous monthly allowance to live off of.

"We lived happily for a few years, but after Emmett was born, her personality started changing. She became obsessed with the way she looked; she started taking yoga classes; she began shopping for new clothes like a maniac… and so on. The changes continued to manifest over the years, and from the innocent, light-hearted girl I once knew, she suddenly became this gorgeous, sharp-tongued woman with an insatiable appetite for social events.

"I can't lie. I liked it. Not only did she look better than ever, but she was extremely active on her own, which meant I didn't have to feel guilty for putting my career first. I got used to the new her just like she got used to the workaholic version of me."

I nodded, reaching for my drink again. "So… can I ask why she's so hard on Edward? I mean, she seems hard on everyone, but especially on him."

He smiled sadly, but there was a tinge of pride in his voice as he spoke the next words. "I guess it's because he's always been so rebellious. She likes everyone doing things her way, and he doesn't like being told what to do. He never did."

"Yeah, he's stubborn alright." I smiled back encouragingly. "I should know. But um… who decided to transfer her? Was it the doctor or…"

"Me. It was me. To be honest with you, the suicide attempt combined with the glass biting was like a wake up call for all of us. She needs help as soon as possible. Her mental health seems to be deteriorating fast and I'm afraid of what the future has in store for her. I should have been proactive and paid more attention to what was happening with her sooner, but I didn't, and I'm the only one to blame for the state she's in now. We live under the same roof, and yet, we've gotten to the point where we barely see each other anymore. I can't even remember the last time we had a normal conversation."

"That's just… sad," I said, feeling sorry for him because he looked so beaten down, and it was obvious he blamed himself for what was happening to Esme.

"It is. What's happened to us is lamentable, but we have to accept the reality. Some couples simply don't work out as well as others do. That doesn't mean I don't care about my wife anymore. As I said, I still love her and I'm going to do everything in my power to help her. I want her to get better. To be honest with you, I'm ashamed of my emotional neglect towards her. I should have been a better, more caring husband. But I can't turn back time and what's done is done. It's too late for me to fix it now, but I can at least try to do what's best for her."

"You really think transferring her to a mental health institution is the right thing to do? I mean, I never realized she was _that _deranged. I just thought she was playing a part to get Edward back."

He chuckled bitterly, staring down at his empty coffee cup. "I wish it was just that. Trust me, Isabella. Things started changing _before_ you came into Edward's life. Your late arrival into our family was a mere catalyst for whatever was going on with her."

I remained quiet, taking everything in. I let my gaze roam aimlessly through the spacious cafeteria for a little while before returning my attention back to Carlisle.

"Okay, so let's say that now I kind of get why she's been acting the way she has, but what about Rosalie? What's her story?"

"There's no story," Emmett replied, putting down the Blackberry he had just been checking. "Not really anyway. Rose's mother died about a year after we got married, and in the years that followed, she grew really close to mine. Rose became the daughter my mother never had, and my mother filled the void left by Caroline's death."

I nodded, but avoided his intense stare because I still found him incredibly intimidating.

"My wife's not a bad person and neither am I. She's still apprehensive of you because of my mother, but I'm starting to see things from a different perspective."

"Are you really?" I asked a bit sarcastically, unable to help glancing his way and seeking the truth in his dark eyes.

"Yes, I am, Isabella," he said firmly, his expression remaining impassive. "I see my brother the happiest he's been in a long time, and for that I am grateful."

I bit on my lip to refrain from smiling at him. "Well, that's definitely good to hear. It's felt like this entire family has held such a bad opinion of me."

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it back just as quickly. His gaze fell on his Blackberry and he picked it up again, starting to scroll through it.

"Have you thought of a name for the baby?" he inquired, changing the subject, but not looking at me.

My eyebrows rose in surprise at the fact that he was actually digging for info about his nephew. "No, not yet, but I like Anthony."

"Anthony was my father's name," Carlisle commented, smiling at me warmly.

Emmett took a sip of his coffee, his eyes still trained on his phone's display. "I assume Edward's ecstatic that he's going to have a son."

"He is. I am too."

"Mmm," he murmured, as if assenting. "He deserves to be happy."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Sometime later, I made my way back to Esme's room. My entire body was wound up tight with nervousness as I knocked on the heavy wooden door before stepping inside tentatively. Edward was sitting on the couch in pretty much the same spot I'd left him, while Esme was still lying in bed, laughing at something he'd just said. The lilies he'd bought her were now resting in a large yellow vase that she'd placed on the bed stand next to the others.

"You're back." He smiled widely, patting the couch beside him. "Come sit down."

"Actually, I was wondering if I could have a word with you in private," I said, throwing Esme an anxious glance. "It'll only take a minute."

She blanched, looking as if I'd just slapped her. She could sense that something had happened, almost as if she could smell the fear oozing off of me.

"Sure." Edward got up, his smile fading at seeing my expression. "Mom, we'll be right back."

"But…" she started saying, her words dying in her throat as Edward led me into the hallway, closing the door behind us.

"So?" he pressed once we were alone, running his palms up and down my arms almost in a soothing manner. "What's wrong? You're scaring me."

I wrung my hands in front of me nervously. "I don't know how to tell you this…"

"Tell me what?"

I took a deep breath, looking up at him pleadingly. "First, promise me you that won't take it out on me. I swear I just found out. Actually, they wanted me to tell you that's why I know before you."

He frowned. "Know what? You're not making any sense."

"Promise me, Edward. I really don't want to be on the receiving end of your anger again without even deserving it."

"Okay, I promise," he said, starting to sound frustrated. "Tell me."

"Well…" I braced myself for what I knew was coming. "They're not letting Esme go; she is not going home today. They're transferring her to a private mental health center."

"What?" His face fell. "What did you just say?"

"Yeah…"

"They can't do that!" he exploded, his face going red with anger. "Who the fuck made such an idiotic decision? Dr. Smith told me he's letting her go. He couldn't have changed his mind in the span of what…" he paused to check his watch, "…twenty minutes?"

I sighed. "Dr. Smith told you that because your father asked him to. He knew you'd react badly to the news."

"Of course I'm reacting badly!" he exclaimed, starting to pace in front of me, his hands now glued to his hair. "My mother's not crazy; she's depressed. There's a big difference. She doesn't deserve to be locked away in a mental clinic. She needs love and affection."

"You're wrong," I said, and his steps stopped abruptly as he turned to me with an expression that could only be described as murderous.

"Look, she needs professional help, Edward. I don't think it's depression but even if it were, she'd still need to be treated. Depression _is_ a mental disorder. She'd need antidepressant medication and counseling."

"Yes, but counseling doesn't require for her to be separated from her home and loved ones," he gritted through his teeth, starting to pace again. "I won't agree to this."

"I'm sorry, but your father already made his decision and the arrangements are made."

He looked at me sharply. "Then why the fuck isn't he telling me this himself?"

I shrugged, wondering the same thing myself. Edward had always looked up on his father, and I didn't think his reaction would have been _that_ bad if Carlisle were the one to approach this delicate subject with him. But for some unknown reason, he wanted _me _to act as a messenger between the two sides. I closed my eyes, deciding to ignore the oddity of it all and just played along.

"Well, I already told you. He thought you'd be taking the news better if it came from me."

Edward snorted unceremoniously. "How typical of him. How typical of them all. They're all a bunch of cowards, using you as a shield for my anger. Now do you understand why I sometimes act the way I do? They are driving me insane. I wouldn't wish my family on my worst enemy."

"I get it, I really do," I said softly, walking over to him and placing my hands on his chest where I rubbed soothing circles. "But you need to let your father do what's best for Esme."

"Where is he?" he asked after a moment, looking down at my hands with a deep frown.

"He's in the cafeteria with Emmett."

Grumbling something intelligible, he gently pried my hands away before starting to stomp off in the direction of the elevator.

"Edward, wait!" I called, instinctively taking a step towards him.

"Stay here, Isabella," he replied over his shoulder distractedly. "I'll be back."

"No, I won't stay here," I said annoyed, and he stopped in his tracks as I quickly closed the distance between us. "Don't tell me what to do, Edward!"

"Christ, when did you get so stubborn?" he muttered, looking like he was getting annoyed himself.

I rolled my eyes at him petulantly as I curled my left arm around his right. "I was always stubborn; you just don't know me as well as you think you do. I'll come with you. I'm practically part of this crazy family now. Whatever concerns you, concerns me too."

"Fine." He sighed, resuming his fast pace with me in tow. "You're right."

"Hey, slow down," I scolded as we neared the elevator, unable to keep up. "I'm pregnant, remember? I'm not as limber as I was and I tire out easily."

"Sorry," he said, throwing me an abashed look. "I'm just really agitated right now."

Minutes later, as we stepped out of the elevator, we ran into Angela. She was wearing her usual blue scrubs and was holding a paper cup of what looked to be coffee. Her first reaction was to smile, but then, just as quickly, her smile faded as if she suddenly realized we weren't there to visit with her.

"Hey, what are you guys doing here? Is something the matter with the baby?" she inquired, concern written all over her face as she took me in, her eyes lingering on my prominent belly.

"Hey, Ang," I tried to smile at her reassuringly. "No, the baby's fine. We're here to see Edward's mother."

"Oh," she said, relief flooding her features as her tone of voice became dispassionate. "Did she have a stroke or something?"

"No," Edward replied, staring over her shoulder intently before turning to me. "Listen, why don't you stay with Angela while I go deal with my father and brother?"

"No, I want to go with you," I insisted, wrapping my arm around his tighter.

Angela looked between the two of us suspiciously. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," I said hurriedly, sensing Edward's impatience. "How about I give you a call later? We really need to get going."

"Sure." She waved us off dismissively. "Feel free to pay me a visit this evening if you want. Ben's out of town with work, so it'll be just the two of us."

"Okay, sounds good." I let go of Edward's hand to give her a hasty peck on the cheek. "Talk to you later."

"Bye," she said, slowly turning on her heels and walking in the opposite direction.

As we entered the cafeteria, I could feel Edward stiffen beside me as his eyes found the table he was looking for. Carlisle, who was facing the doors, spotted us almost immediately. He opened his mouth and spoke fast to Emmett, all the while his stare trained on his other son.

Edward was fuming as he stopped next to the table abruptly. "You're not sending her to a mental institution. I won't allow it."

"Son…" Carlisle started, but Edward cut him off harshly.

"No, Dad. You can hire a therapist, but I won't let you treat her like she's crazy."

Emmett threw his brother a dark look, which Edward chose to ignore.

"I'm not treating her like she's crazy, Edward. I know she's not. But you have to understand that there are things you don't know about your mother's behavior in the past months."

"Like what?" Edward demanded to know, his voice rising menacingly with each uttered word. "Please enlighten me. Maybe this time you actually have the _guts_ to be honest with me."

Carlisle's expression became somber; his jaw setting. "You want to know? Fine, I'll tell you. Now sit down; you're causing a scene and making a fool out of yourself."

I glanced around and true enough, pretty much everyone in the room was gawking at us. Edward held out a chair for me before occupying the seat right across from me. Leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest, he stared at his father expectantly.

Carlisle stared back at him, his blue eyes betraying his inner turmoil. "It's about her unexpected, strong outbursts of rage in situations that would not trigger such a strong reaction in most people. Her complete lack of empathy. Her cold, uncaring, even cruel behavior towards her own family and even the staff. The emotional abuse she subjects everyone to. Her lies. Her manipulations. Cheating on her husband and not even feeling sorry for it."

The second that last sentence left his lips, my hand flew to my mouth as I let out an audible gasp.

"What? !" Both Edward and Emmett echoed in unison, looking perplexed.

Carlisle shook his head and let out a heavy breath. "I'm sorry. I really didn't want any of you to find out like this. Maybe I should've kept it to myself. But, I just don't think I can anymore. I can't go on with this charade your mother and I call a marriage."

"When did she cheat on you?" Emmett asked, sitting up straighter, a pink tinge coloring his cheeks. "Dad, are you being serious? Please tell me you're joking. Please."

"Does it look like I'm joking?" Carlisle answered bitterly, running his palms over his face. "A few years back, she slept with Bob."

"Bob Richardson?" Emmett blurted out incredulously, his face now getting fully red. "Your friend and business associate? That Bob?"

"Unfortunately, yes. That Bob."

"But he's ten years your junior! He's your friend… he's…"

"Why did she do it?" Edward spoke, his voice so low, he could barely be heard over the general chatter of the room. "And more importantly, why did you forgive her?"

"I don't know why she did it, but I forgave her because I felt guilty for neglecting her. The sad part is that she didn't even _want _to be forgiven. She didn't feel an ounce of remorse. Bob, on the other hand, begged me for forgiveness. He was desperate. He didn't want to lose our friendship nor the financial comfort our business arrangement provided him with. So I gave both of them another chance. Bob is now happily married as both of you know, and he's been avoiding her ever since, but Esme… she's only gotten worse over the years. I was such a fool."

"How could you not tell us?" Emmett said, looking like he was about to have an aneurysm.

I actually felt sorry for him. He'd always been his mother's biggest supporter, and now, her perfect image was being tinted by his father's confession.

"What would have been the point?" Carlisle replied regretfully. "Why ruin your happiness with my marital issues? I sincerely thought it was just a phase and that we were going to get over it. We didn't."

"So, is this some sort of revenge?" Edward asked, looking at his father through narrowed eyes. "Are you trying to get back at her?

Carlisle was scandalized by his son's accusation. "Of course it's not! Edward, you know I would never do something like that. I love your mother; despite everything, I would never intentionally hurt her."

"I don't know anything anymore!" Edward snapped, slamming his fist against the table. "I don't even recognize my own parents, for Christ's sake! I mean, how did we get here? I swear to God, our life has just turned into a bad soap opera. I'm sick and tired of all this shit. I wish you'd all just fucking disappear from my life once and for all."

"Watch your tongue," Carlisle hissed, starting to get mad himself. "Last time I checked I was still your father, and I think you should speak to me with more respect." He took a deep breath to calm himself down then went on. "Your mother cheating on me isn't even that important right now. She is dealing with severe anger issues, ones that partially caused her to harm herself, and needs to be seen by a professional. I'm only trying to help her. Emmett understands this. Why can't you?"

"Yeah, Emmett has suddenly seen the light at the end of the tunnel," Edward said sarcastically, getting up abruptly and almost knocking down his chair. "Good for him."

Emmett frowned, looking like he hadn't yet recovered from the shock of it all. "Where are you going?"

"I have to speak with her. I don't know about you, big brother, but I _need_ an explanation."

"I'm coming with you," he mumbled, rising to his feet unsteadily. "I have to know what the hell she was thinking."

"Isabella?" Edward turned to me expectantly.

"You want me to come, too?" I asked dumbfounded.

"Yes," he replied firmly, holding his hand out for me to take.

As I stared at his outstretched hand, it suddenly dawned on me that this was a major turning point in our relationship. He was willingly including me in what was about to become a very private family moment that was going to change everyone's perception about Esme. His gesture should've made me happy that he was finally ready to open up to me more, but instead it made me afraid of what I was going to be a witness to.

All I could do was hope that this sudden change of heart of his wasn't going to prove temporary. Knowing Esme, she was going to take advantage of her current situation to pose as a victim, and I had to admit that I was afraid that both Emmett and Edward were going to fall for her theatrics. They were both vulnerable when it came to their mother's well being, and she was going to make use of all of her secret weapons to keep them that way.

Edward's long fingers held mine into a tight grip as we rode the elevator in complete silence. Judging by the cool mask he was displaying, he looked like the perfect picture of calm and collected, but I could tell he was a nervous wreck by the slight tremor of his hand. His entire body seemed to emanate negative energy, and it was all I could do not to wrap my arms around him and try to soothe him.

Emmett was leaning against the metal wall with his hands in his pants' pockets, staring down at his shoes. He was wearing a deep frown and for the second time that day, I felt sorry for him.

Carlisle had stayed at the cafeteria. Thinking about him, I couldn't help but wonder how he had been able to keep Esme's betrayal a secret for such a long time. I felt bad for him too. He was a good man who didn't deserve the horrible wife he'd chosen for himself. She might have been a different person when they first met, but I still couldn't quite comprehend him sticking to her side for so many years.

When Emmett led the way into his mother's hospital room, almost slamming the door into the wall, she startled, dropping the art deco pocket mirror she had been holding to the hardwood floor. The mirror shattered, sending glass flying everywhere, and she gasped, looking down at the empty shell with a terrified expression.

"W-what is going on?" she stammered, her eyes rising to meet us.

She looked from Emmett, to Edward and then to me as I closed the door behind us softly. The moment her fierce stare landed on me, I could swear I felt the icy trail of the venom she was projecting at me permeating my very skin.

And then I just knew. Whatever was going to happen next, she was going to blame it on me. It didn't matter that Carlisle's decision to tell his sons the truth had nothing to do with me. Deep inside, she was going to hate _me _even more for it.

"The question is; why did you do it, Mom?" Emmett asked, his voice revealing that he still couldn't believe what was coming out of his own mouth. "Why did you cheat on Dad?"

"What?" Her eyes widened, her right hand pressing against her chest. "Who told you this?"

"Dad told us," Edward gritted, pinning her down with the reproach in his eyes. "Now answer the question. And don't you dare deny it. Just… for once in your life treat us like the grown ups we are and be honest with us. Why did you do it?"

For a moment, Esme simply looked at Edward blankly. Then, like the drama queen she was, she burst into tears, her unconvincing sobs cutting through the room's mortuary silence like a chainsaw.

"I'm sorry," she wailed, burying her face into her hands. "I'm so sorry."

She cried like that for a couple of minutes, her shoulders shaking from her throat-catching sobs. Then she looked up, her bloodshot eyes alternating between the two brothers and begging for forgiveness.

"It happened a long time ago. Your father and I were going through a rough patch, and I was just so unhappy. Bob was so kind and attentive and sweet. My desperate need for affection pushed me into his arms. I swear I didn't mean to hurt Carlisle or any of you. Please, you have to believe me."

As I observed her from my emotionally detached perspective, it crossed my mind that she was starting to look more and more convincing with each uttered word. Her unkempt hair and the angry-red cut on her lip worked in her advantage, making her look feeble and pity-worthy. She was playing all her cards and pushing the right buttons in order to bring out her sons' sensitive and empathetic sides.

At some point, her eyes met mine once again and they were practically screaming: _I'm going to crush you. _There was so much hatred directed at me behind those dark irises that I felt chills running down my spine. For the first time since I had met her, I was actually _afraid_ of her.

A single glance at Edward's face was enough to make me weak in the knees. I could see his resolve. He had already fallen for her sly manipulative ways.

* * *

><p><strong>AN As always, thanks for reading!**

**~Andreea~**


	29. Chapter 28: Gullible

**A/N I suck. I know, I know…**

**Enjoy?**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 28<strong>

**Edward Pov**

* * *

><p><em>~ August 17<em>_th__, 2012 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

As I looked down at the woman helplessly lying in the pristine hospital bed, all I could think about was that I was so _confused_.

I should have been angry. And I was. I was angry with her for betraying my father's trust and cheating on him with one of his best friends. I had always looked up to Bob and thought that he was such a great guy, but now, thanks to her, I wasn't so sure anymore. I was mad at her for stooping so low as to break the vows she took on her wedding day, but mostly I was angry that she'd kept it a secret for so long, all the while lying to all of us that everything between Dad and her was alright.

I had every reason to be furious with her, and yet, as I took her in, so weak and absolutely miserable, I couldn't help feeling sorry for her. I should've asked for a more extensive explanation, but something inside of me told me that I had to give her the benefit of the doubt. What if she was telling the truth? What if in one of those critical moments when she felt shattered, alone and lost in life, she let herself fall into temptation without even considering or realizing the consequences her actions would have on the entire family? What if she was so consumed with hate because of my father's emotional neglect towards her that she just didn't care anymore and jumped into the arms of the first man that crossed her path?

I just didn't know what to think anymore. I knew she was bad tempered and had a vindictive nature, but I refused to believe she had done it with the sole purpose of hurting my father. That might have been the initial motive, but no matter what Dad said, I had a hard time accepting the fact that she hadn't felt remorse afterwards. Their marriage certainly wasn't what it used to be, but I strongly believed they still cared for each other. The woman I called mother was flawed to an extreme but not cruel. I just could not believe that.

As I stood there, at the foot of her bed, contemplating what had transpired since Isabella and I had arrived at the hospital, I allowed myself to zone out for a moment.

The cheating part I could get over. At least I thought so. It had happened years prior and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it now. Dad and Bob had made amends and were still business partners. Bob was married to his second wife and expecting their third child, so it was clear to me he had gotten over the fleeting affair with my mother pretty quickly. My parents' marriage was ruined for good and a divorce was imminent. There wasn't anything we could do about that either. Over the years, they had both done a good job of hiding their differences from us, so I had to admit that the notion of my parents divorcing was pretty shocking but expected after my father's confession.

What I found difficult to accept was the fact that everyone seemed to think that Mom had mental issues. Her suicide attempt wasn't to be taken lightly, but it wasn't reason enough to lock her away and treat her like a crazy person either. In my opinion, her recent behavior changes had to do with depression rather than some severe personality disorder. Locking her away was only going to make it worse, and instead of recovering, there was a big possibility her condition was going to take an undesirable turn.

However, I was practically fighting windmills on this, and for that reason, I knew I had to step back and let Dad and Emmett do as they saw fit. I could have called Jasper and ask for his support, but I wasn't deluding myself into thinking that he was going to side with me on this. Even Rosalie seemed to have accepted the fact that my mother was going to a mental institution, or else she would have been here, fighting her husband and father-in-law right to the last minute.

For a second, the suspicious thought that Emmett hadn't told Rosalie the truth crossed my mind, but I dismissed it just as quickly. When it came to his wife, my brother was anything but a liar. He loved and respected her too much to keep such important things from her. Which made me wonder… why the heck had Rosalie agreed to this?

I didn't have much time to ponder that thought, because suddenly Isabella took a step to the side, starting for the door. I looked at her in surprise, not expecting the sudden movement.

"Maybe I should leave," she said, throwing my mother an apprehensive glance.

For the first time since we'd burst through the door, demanding an explanation, it dawned on me that bringing Isabella might not have been such a great idea, after all. Accusing one's mother of adultery was pretty delicate family business, and I should have thought twice before making such a hasty decision. Maybe I had unconsciously felt the need to humiliate my mother by bringing my girlfriend, who was almost a stranger to her, into the room when it happened. Isabella had realized the inappropriateness of it all before me and was preparing her exit.

"I'll come with you," I said quietly, turning my head to look my mother in the eye. "I think I'm done here."

"Edward, no," Mom sniffed, holding her hand out to me. "Please listen to me."

I sighed, shaking my head. "I already have, Mother, and I think we should continue this conversation another time. It was wrong of me to ask for an explanation when you're clearly not well. I'm going to take Isabella home; she needs her rest."

"You're leaving the hospital?" she gasped, her eyes widening. "But I thought you wanted to be here when they let me go."

"Yeah, about that…" I stared, unsure of what I was about to say.

"Edward, a word please?" Emmett cut me off, pinning me down with his intense stare. "Now."

"Sure," I mumbled, my feet instinctively carrying me to my mother's bed. I gave her a light kiss on the forehead, and she grabbed my arm to prevent me from leaving. Calmly, I removed her hand before walking back to Isabella's side.

"Bye, Mom," I said over my shoulder. "I'll see you soon."

"Edward…" she whispered, her voice cracking under the pressure of her emotions.

Isabella stared at her, her expression almost fearful.

"Let's go," I said, placing my hand on the small of her back and guiding her towards the door.

Once in the hallway, Emmett nodded for us to follow after him as he led us to a more secluded area.

He frowned at me and crossed his arms over his chest. "I hope you're not falling for what she just said. I pray you're still not that gullible, Edward."

"I don't know what to think anymore. I just… don't know," I replied honestly, running my palm up and down Isabella's side.

He sighed, annoyed. "I love her more than any of you do, but I swear to God that if you don't snap back to your senses, I'm going to beat the shit out of you."

"What the fuck do you want from me, Emmett?" I snapped, fed up with his know-it-all attitude. "Your entire life, you've hidden behind her skirt like the overgrown mama's boy you are. Now you've suddenly turned against her and you want me to do the same. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"First of all, I'm not turning against her, and you know it, so don't you dare accuse me of betraying her. I'm just starting to see things more clearly. She's mentally unstable, Edward and needs professional help. Can you understand that? Can you get that notion through your thick skull?" he said, accentuating his last sentence by jabbing his forefinger to his temple. He looked like he was quickly losing his patience, and so was I.

"You fucking hypocrite," I replied, my voice rising with each uttered word. I took a step towards him, and Isabella reacted promptly, grabbing my elbow to keep me in place. "If a week ago _I _had suggested locking her away in a mental institution, you'd have killed me with your bare hands. But wait, you had a revelation, and now, you feel entitled to lecture meabout our mother's well being. I'll say it again; you're a fucking hypocrite."

His jaw set; his eyes darkened.

"Where were you the past couple of months, Edward?" he accused in a low tone of voice. "Huh? Where were you? Where were you those nights when she got so drunk, I had to carry her to her room because she couldn't walk? Where were you when she almost burned down the house trying to get rid of our old photo albums? Where were you when in a fit of rage she almost hit Jessica? Hmm? Tell me. Where the fuck were _you_? Because you certainly weren't with our mother who needed you!"

My eyes widened in shock and he huffed, shaking his head.

"You don't know shit about her condition so shut your fucking mouth and listen to me. She's sick and she's going to that private center whether you give your consent or not. End of discussion."

"She tried to hit Jessica?" Isabella spoke, gripping my arm tightly, apparently just as shocked as I was.

Emmett glanced at her and let out a heavy breath. "Yes, a few weeks ago. I think that was the wake up call for me. I'll never allow anyone, regardless of their status in my life, to hit my child."

"But why would Mom do such a thing?" I asked, dumbfounded. "She never hit any of us, no matter what we did, so why would she react that way with Jessica?"

"They were arguing about something, Jessica shot back a bratty reply; she tends to do that a lot lately, and Mom snapped. I heard the whole thing from the kitchen and got there just in time to stop it."

"How did Jess take it?" Isabella asked softly, leaning into me. "She must have been scared."

"I think it was mostly shock at first, but then she got mad and demanded we go home. She has refused to set foot in that house ever since. But I did manage, barely, to get her to come with us a couple of days ago for Mom's birthday."

"I can't believe it," I said, draping my arm around Isabella's shoulders protectively.

I didn't even want to imagine what I would do if anyone ever tried to hit my son. Suddenly, my bad mood had vanished, replaced by indignation.

Emmett sighed, leaning against the wall. "Well, believe it because it's true."

"I get why you're so mad with the way she handled the situation. Trust me, I do. I'd have probably reacted the same way, or worse, if she ever tried hitting my child. I know she's dealing with some serious issues. But I still don't think locking her away in that clinic is such a good idea."

He shook his head in disapproval. Dare I say he looked positively exasperated?

"It's only temporary, Edward. Just until the doctors diagnose her. After that, it remains to be seen what will happen to her. She could be staying at the clinic for a while for treatment or she could return home under the strict supervision of a professional. But right now, she's unstable, and even you can't deny that."

By the way he was stubbornly sticking to his idea of what was best for our mother, I realized there was no way in hell I was ever going to make him change his mind. For once, I was going to let him have it his way. I was sick and tired of fighting against each other all the time. I wanted and needed some semblance of alliance amongst my family.

"Fine," I relented, although I was clearly not completely fine with it. "Do whatever you want. It's obvious that my opinion on the matter is being overlooked, so I don't know why I even bothered expressing it."

He opened his mouth, looking like he was on the verge of shooting back a biting reply, but thought better about it. He looked at Isabella and his eyes landed on her stomach where they lingered for a moment before meeting mine.

"You should go home. Isabella looks tired and so do you. I'll deal with mother."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Minutes later, Isabella and I were sitting in the car, staring out the windshield absentmindedly. She was the first one to break the silence.

"I'm sorry."

I looked at her, my brow furrowing. "What are you sorry for?"

She shrugged. "For everything that's happening, I guess. I wish neither of us had to deal with this stress regarding your mother's condition."

"Mmmm," I hummed in agreement. "That's life; never too easy or too complacent."

"Yet…" she trailed off for a moment, glancing out her window, "…the difficulties have an upside. If you choose to deal with them, you can transform them into genuine fulfillment. It all depends on each of us, really. Life doesn't have to be easy to be great."

Despite my foul mood, I smiled and reached over to take her hand in mine. "That's a good philosophy to live by. I like your optimism, my _Bella_."

I kissed the back of her hand before directing my attention to the radio, trying to find a song I liked. She remained quiet, so I stole a quick glance at her, only to see that she was looking at me with an amused expression on her face.

"What?"

She smiled. "You called me Bella."

"Yeah, and?"

"You rarely do. I like it."

I shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly."I guess I like Isabella more."

She chuckled. "Anyway… you say you like my optimism. Well, maybe someday my optimism will rub off on you."

Even thought she was smiling, the heavy bags under her eyes indicated just how exhausted she was. I sighed, hating the fact that I was the one to blame for her lack of sleep.

"_Maybe _when you've lived some more, you'll find that sometimes keeping an optimistic attitude is easier said than done," I said, leaning over and capturing her lips in a gentle kiss.

Our fight from the previous night had taken its toll on both of us, and all I wanted was to take her home and spend the rest of the day by making it up to her. I wanted to make love to her, to get completely lost in her and forget all about my problems even for just a little while.

Or… we could just snuggle in our bed and get some much needed rest.

Yeah… sleep sounded heavenly right now.

She frowned, pushing against my chest lightly and breaking the kiss. "You know I hate it when you point out our age difference."

"And you know that I don't do it in order to upset you," I murmured, caressing her cheek. "I just think that you are still very young and have a lot to learn. Life can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."

"And _I_ think you forget that I lost both my parents when I was eighteen. Trust me, I _know_ how much of a pain in the ass life can be."

I sighed again, leaning back against my seat. She did have a point. "Speaking of your parents… when do you want to go to Forks?"

"Whenever you can get the time off from work. I was thinking that we could leave on a Friday afternoon and come back on a Monday evening. Or we could leave on a Saturday morning and come back on a Monday. Whatever works for you."

"How about we set a date?" I suggested. "Let's say… two weeks from now?"

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

"Oh, Edward, that would be great," she said, getting excited. Leaning towards me, she wrapped her arms around my neck tightly. She gave me a loud kiss before stroking my hair lovingly. "Thank you."

"You have nothing to thank me for," I replied with a smile. Her touch felt soothing, and I held her to me, wishing I never had to let go. "You know I would do anything for you."

"I know, but what about your mother?"

"I promised that I would go with you and I intend to keep my promise. Besides, we're only going to be away for a few days. I'm sure she'll be fine. She has Emmett and Dad and everyone else."

She nodded, continuing to stroke my hair. "Can I just say that I think your father made the right decision?" she said, watching me apprehensively. "And about her cheating on him…"

I looked away, my brows knitting together. "Please, let's not go there. It'll only make me mad, and I don't want to take it out on you. I just managed to calm down some."

"Okay." She pecked my cheek once before letting go of my neck and pulling back from me. "I just want you to know that if you ever feel the need to vent out, I'm always here to listen. Communication is the key to a healthy relationship. I don't want you repressing your emotions, especially the negative ones. They'll only eat at you from the inside, making you bitter and utterly unhappy. It's better to talk out your anger and frustration than keep it to yourself. And please note that I said _talk_, not yell. You tend to do the latter quite a lot when you get angry about something."

Her comment stung, reminding me of the way I had treated her the night before.

"I can be quite insufferable, can't I?" I said quietly, giving her an abashed look. "I'm amazed you still put up with me."

She rolled her eyes at me. "I told you before and I'll tell you again; I don't mind your temper that much. I knew you had it when I accepted you into my life. You're not perfect and neither am I. What I do mind is the fact that you keep shutting me out. You say you want me to be your wife, but I'm going to be honest here and tell you that I don't think you're ready for another marriage quite yet.

"You need to learn how to let me in, but most importantly, you need to learn how to trust me. I may be young, but that doesn't mean I'm weak or naïve. You always gave me the impression you want to protect me by keeping me at a certain distance, but trust me when I tell you that I can handle both you and your family just fine. You're not supposed to deal with all the problems by yourself. If we're in this relationship for the long haul, I need to know that you can see me as your friend and equal instead of just the woman you're sleeping with and mother of your child."

I turned around in my seat, angling my body towards her. "So that's why you keep refusing my marriage proposal? You think I don't trust you?"

"You trust me, but not completely." She smiled, cocking her head to the side. "And I never refused your marriage proposal. I never said no. I just said that we needed to wait."

I was quiet for a little while, simply pondering her words.

Maybe she was right, after all. Maybe I wasn't ready for another commitment just yet. But sooner or later I was going to be, and when that moment came, I was going to make her mine forever. Although I didn't show it as often as I should, I highly appreciated Isabella because I knew just how precious a woman like her really was and how fortunate I was to have her in my life.

She was beautiful, smart, ambitious, funny, kind, affectionate, hard-working; the list could go on forever. But most importantly, she was going to make an amazing mother to our son, and to me, that was what mattered most. She was the kind of woman I could have a family and spend the rest of my life with. She was the kind of woman I could love till my very last breath. She was the kind of woman I had been searching for all along, and I had no intention of ever letting her go.

"You're quite mature for your age, you know that?" I said eventually.

"If I remember correctly, last night you accused me of being immature and bratty," she said teasingly. "Which way is it?"

"You know I didn't mean what I said last night. You're a wonderful woman, and I'm lucky to have you in my life."

"I'm glad you think so," she said with a satisfied smile as she leaned back into her seat and put on her seatbelt, indicating that she was ready to go. "Remember that next time you have a BF."

"BF?" I asked, turning the key in the ignition and causing the engine to come to life with a soft purr.

She laughed at my perplexed expression. "Yeah, remember White Chicks? The movie?"

I shrugged. "I don't think I've seen it."

This time, her eye roll came out as playful, rather than annoyed. "Of course you haven't. Anyway, BF is short for bitch fit."

I let out a soft chuckle. "And here I thought bitch fits only happen to women having really bad days."

"No, guys PMS, too. It's been scientifically proven."

"Oh, really?"

"I'm serious. It's called IMS, or Irritable Male Syndrome."

It was my turn to laugh at her reply. "Thanks for letting me know I now have IMS to blame my mood swings on. 'Hey honey, I'm feeling quite cranky today; I think it's the IMS.' 'Baby, I don't feel like having sex with you right now. Blame it on the IMS.'"

"You're a jerk." She slapped my thigh playfully.

"I know," I said, smiling widely. "But you love me anyway."

"That I do."

The tension in the car seemed to have simply evaporated in the span of mere minutes since we had gotten in. I was calmer, and Isabella looked happy to be going home. She sighed contently, placing her hands on her prominent baby bump as she went back to gazing out her window.

I was about to put the car in reverse when it suddenly dawned on me that I had left my phone on the bed stand in my mother's hospital room.

"Damn," I muttered under my breath, immediately killing the engine.

"What?" Isabella's head snapped in my direction, distress lightly coloring her tone of voice. "What's wrong?"

"I forgot my phone upstairs," I said, giving her my best apologetic look.

She groaned. "No."

"Yeah." I opened the door, placing my left foot on the parking lot's cemented floor. "I'll be back really quick, okay?"

"But-" she started protesting, stopping abruptly when she realized I was already out of the car. Her expression read something akin to fear, and I just stood there, hunched over staring at her, trying to understand what she was suddenly so afraid of.

"Are you okay?" I asked curiously.

She gave me a tight smile that I didn't buy. "I'm fine. Just…please hurry."

"I will. I'll be back before you know it," I promised hurriedly, straightening up and shutting the door.

She seemed preoccupied about something, but I didn't have much time to dwell on it as I started jogging towards the elevator, gesturing to an elderly couple to hold the doors.

As I passed the waiting room, heading towards the hallway that led to my mother's room, I ran into Dad. He was walking towards me, his hands shoved deep into his pants' front pockets and his eyes trained to the floor. He looked lost in thought, and I slowed down my hurried steps as I approached him. I was about twenty feet away when he finally glanced up and his icy blue irises met mine. He looked startled to see me there, but recovered quickly.

As I closed the distance between us, I took a moment to reflect on his appearance. His hair, once honey blond, now had a platinum touch to it, streaks of gray coloring his sideburns and the short hairs at his temples. The wrinkles stretching from the corners of his eyes, all the way to his narrow forehead seemed to have dug even deeper into his pale skin while his two-day scruff cast a somber shadow over his entire physiognomy. To sum it all up, he looked like he had aged ten years overnight.

"Oh, good, you're still here," he spoke, taking my phone out of his pocket and handing it to me. "You left this behind. Emmett told me to give it to you."

"Where is he?" I asked quietly, glancing past his shoulder, almost expecting to see my brother standing there.

Dad sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "He's with your mother. She didn't want me there, so I had to leave the room, but he's still in there, trying to calm her down. She's furious at me for telling you about Bob."

I nodded, passing my phone from one hand to the other nervously. "Did she find out about her transfer to the clinic?"

"I think so. Emmett's been with her since you left. I planned on giving her the news myself, but she started screaming at me to get the hell out the moment I stepped into the room. I didn't know what else to do, so I left. I was just heading back to the cafeteria."

A moment of uncomfortable silence followed. He looked like he wanted to say more but didn't dare. Eventually, I shoved the phone into my own pocket and took a step backwards, preparing my exit.

"I need to go; Isabella's waiting for me. Let me know when she gets settled in."

"I will," he promised, stroking his jaw with his knuckles. "Oh and… Edward?"

"Yeah, Dad?"

"I'm…" he trailed off for a few seconds, biting into his lower lip gently. "I'm sorry."

I didn't know exactly what he was apologizing for, but I didn't press for more either. I'd had enough family drama for one day. Instead, I acknowledged his apology with a short nod before turning on my heels and heading towards the elevator.

As I stepped out on the parking garage's second floor, I turned to my right, heading for where I knew I had left the car. I barely had time to take a few steps before my gaze met the scene happening mere feet away.

Isabella had her window rolled down and was talking to James who was leaning with his hands on top of the hood. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, which meant he was either coming to or leaving work.

After everything,_ this_ was going to be the drop that overflowed the cup. I could feel the anger rolling off of me in waves, but I didn't care. This time I was going to take it out solely on him.

"You have to be fucking kidding me," I yelled, balling my fists.

At the sound of my voice, he straightened up and turned around to face me, his expression neutral. "Well, hello to you, too."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I demanded, getting closer and closer with each hurried step.

One of his eyebrows arched, his lips turning up into the cocky smirk I hated so much. "I work here, cuz. You seem to be in a bitchy mood today. Well, if I think better about it, you're always in a bitchy mood."

I stopped inches away from him. I was so close, I could smell his breath, and yet, he didn't look intimidated by me in the least, continuing to keep his nonchalant body posture.

"I'm not your cousin and get the fuck away from my fiancée," I gritted menacingly.

I had no idea why I said it. Although we had discussed marriage, Isabella wasn't officially my fiancée. I guess I just wanted to make it clear that she was off limits. I couldn't stand the sight of him so close to her. It made my whole body quake with rage.

As if sensing my inner agitation, he looked down at Isabella then up at me, his smirk still in place. "Fiancée? I don't see an engagement ring."

"James, I think you should leave," Isabella spoke, her voice firm. "You said what you had to say. Now please go."

He ignored her, staring me in the eye defiantly. "I heard about Esme. What a pity. News travels so fast in hospitals."

"Leave," I said, desperately clinging to the any semblance of self-control I had left in me. "Now."

He went on, leaning in even closer.

"I also heard you've been neglecting Tanya's grave lately. Elsa complains you hardly ever call anymore. Does she know you're going to be a father?" He asked, his mouth turning up into a malicious grin. "Oh, wait, she does. I told her. Oops. Guess it must have just slipped out."

That was it. I was going to kill him and enjoy it.

"You fucking bastard," I growled, fisting his t-shirt and pushing him against the car roughly.

"Edward, no!" Isabella yelled desperately. I could hear her pulling on the door handle repeatedly, but she couldn't get out because we were blocking her door.

James shoved me back just as roughly, and a jolt of intense pain shot through my lower back. The adrenaline in my system was high enough for me to ignore it.

His expression morphed into one of pure hatred as he hissed at me menacingly. "I'm going to ruin you the same way you ruined Tanya. You have my word. Now that you've found happiness again, I'm going to take it away from you. Slowly. Painfully."

To my ears, it sounded like he was threatening to harm Isabella. I would have rather died or gone to jail for killing him than let him lay one finger on her and my child within.

I was about to launch myself at him again when I was pulled back firmly. Furious and a bit confused, I looked behind me, only to see that Isabella had suddenly materialized behind me and was holding me by the back of my shirt.

"Edward, please!" she implored, her eyes watering. "I don't want you to get into a fight with him. Please. I'm begging you."

She sounded and looked incredibly distressed and that was enough to make me snap out of it. Taking a step back, I forced myself to calm down.

"You stay away from Isabella," I said to James, pointing my forefinger at him in warning.

One of his eyebrows ached, his smirk returning. "Who said anything about Isabella?"

He was mocking me and I despised it.

"I swear to God, I'll fucking kill you," I gritted, clenching my fists so tight it hurt. "I'm telling you one last time. Leave her out of this."

He shook his head, letting out a hoarse laugh. Looking down at himself, he smoothed his hands over his t-shirt before taking a few steps towards me.

"Think about it," he whispered, close to my ear. "Think real hard. You're a smart man. You'll figure it out eventually."

With those final words, he left, and I just stood there, dumbfounded, wondering what he had meant by that.

_~~ 0 ~~_

The first thing I did when I got home was to strip down to my boxer briefs and get into bed. Although it was pretty early in the afternoon, I was in desperate need of some sleep after last night's insomnia. Not to mention that my back was still hurting.

Isabella closed the curtains in the bedroom before pulling off her dress and joining me. She lay with her head on my chest, and I wrapped my arms around her, closing my eyes and letting myself drift off.

Somewhere in the distance, I could hear her voice, but I was too far gone to make sense of what she was saying.

I woke up sometime later to the sound of my phone ringing furiously. The room was still dark, but the curtains were now opened, and I realized it must have been late at night. I sat up in bed and looked around for Isabella. She was nowhere to be found.

Picking up the phone, I saw it was Dad calling.

"Yeah?" I answered, getting up from the bed and stumbling my way towards the door. I opened it and made my way towards the living room.

"You said to call when I had news," he replied, sounding tired.

The living room was quiet, although the light was on. Rubbing a hand over my eyes, I continued walking towards the kitchen.

"How did she take it?"

He let out a long breath. "She took the news pretty badly and the doctors had to sedate her. She's sleeping now. In fact, she's been sleeping for the past three hours or so. Rest will do her good. She hasn't had any in quite some time."

I reached the kitchen and found Isabella perched up on a stool at the kitchen island, eating ice cream from a half gallon tub. She smiled softly when she saw me and patted the stool next to her.

"I'll come by to see her tomorrow," I said, smoothing my hand over her long hair as I sat down.

"Good, good," he stifled a yawn. "She needs all the support she can get."

After a small pause I said, "Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"How are you?"

I genuinely wanted to know. I had been angry at him and I still was, but that didn't mean I wasn't concerned for his well being.

He chuckled, but there was no humor in the dry sound echoing in my ear. "I've been better."

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure. Have a good night, son."

"You too."

I hung up and put down the phone, staring at Isabella.

"What?" she asked, freezing with the spoon halfway to her mouth. "Why are you looking at me like that? Did something happen with Esme?"

"No, no, she's okay," I assured her.

"Then what is it?" she insisted, placing the spoon back in the ice cream tub and turning towards me.

"I keep thinking about what James said. It's been running on a continuous loop in my mind."

She huffed, running her palms up and down my bare thighs in a comforting manner. "I really don't think he meant anything he said. Those were words spoken out of anger."

If only she knew the real reason he was so mad at me.

"I have a confession to make," I said eventually, knowing she had a right to know the whole truth.

She frowned and her hands stopped moving on me. "I don't like the sound of that, Edward."

"When Tanya was dying… he asked me for my permission to see her. And… and I said no. I didn't let him say goodbye to her."

Isabella's eyes widened. "Why would you do that? I mean, I know you didn't like him, but he was her cousin. He had the right to-"

"I know, I know," I cut her off, standing up abruptly and tugging on my hair. "I know I was wrong. To be honest I don't even know why I did it. I was just so angry at the world that she was dying. I barely even allowed my own family to visit. I guess I just wanted to keep her all to myself while I still had her."

"Oh, Edward," she whispered, reaching for my hand. "I'm sorry. And yes, you were very wrong to do so, but he's not going to do anything to me."

"How do you know?"

"I just know. He's not a bad person, Edward. At least, I don't think he is."

I chuckled darkly. "That's what Tanya used to say. But I know better. He's revengeful and he won't stop till he gets back at me."

She sighed, pulling on my hand until I was standing between her parted thighs. "You're being paranoid. Just… stop thinking about it."

"I wish I could," I lamented, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "His words are going to haunt me for a long time."

"I'm just surprised he didn't tell me himself, you know?"

"Yeah, me too. I have no idea what his game plan is, but I don't like it. I am afraid of what he is considering as retribution."

She looked up at me and smiled, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Everything is going to be okay. I promise."

Cupping her cheeks, I kissed her for a long time.

Everything was definitely not going to be okay. It was as if I could feel it in my bones. Something horrible was about to happen and I wasn't going to be able to stop it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN New readers… for teasers you can join TPB group on FB. Link is on my profile.**

**As always, thanks for reading and patiently waiting for updates : )**


	30. Chapter 29: Empathetic

**Chapter 29**

**Isabella Pov**

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><p><em>~ August 17<em>_th__, 2012 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

We sat silently at the kitchen counter, each of us lost in their thoughts. I had picked up my spoon and was playing with my ice cream while Edward just stared down at the marble countertop, his hands cupped in front of him. At some point, he sighed and shook his head as if trying to chase away the toxic thoughts plaguing his mind. He got up and walked over to the windows, gazing outside.

"So, what did he want this time?" he broke the silence, not looking at me. "What did he tell you?"

"Same old, same old," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "He told me you're a bad person; that you're not good enough for me; that you're going to break my heart, ruin my life… blah, blah."

I was telling the truth. As always, James had bad-mouthed Edward but that was about it. He hadn't said anything else of importance to me and he certainly hadn't threatened me. I knew Edward perceived him as some sort of vengeful psychopath, but I just thought he was being paranoid. James' bark was definitely worse than his bite, and I was used to his strange behavior by now.

"That bastard," Edward muttered under his breath.

I put down my spoon and walked over to him. "Let's not talk about James anymore, okay?" I suggested, gently rubbing the small of his back. "It's making you upset and that's the last thing I want or need right now. How's your back?"

"Better," he said, peering at me sideways.

"You're lying," I stated flatly, and could feel his muscles tense under my touch.

He sighed, turning to face me. "I'm not. It's better, I swear."

"Edward, you need to see a doctor," I insisted. "It's only going to get worse if you don't."

"I know and I will," he retorted, his expression letting me know he wasn't pleased with the direction our conversation was going.

"When?" I pressed on, determined not to back off on this. Not this time.

"When I have the time," he said dismissively, heading over to the kitchen counter and busying himself with the ice cream tub. "Are you done here?"

I frowned at his back. "You can make time if you want; you know that. What's really going on? What are you so afraid of?"

He put the tub back in the freezer before washing the spoon I had used, not answering.

I huffed, annoyed. "Edward, please talk to me. Communication, remember?"

He stilled with his back to me, his head hung low. After a moment, he placed the spoon on a dry kitchen towel before turning to me.

"I just…" he began, his hands gripping at the counter behind him as his concerned eyes met mine. "I _know_ that if I see a doctor now he's going to tell me I need surgery."

"You can't know that for certain. That's the worst case scenario. Why do you have to be so negativistic all the time?"

"I'm being realistic, Isabella. You're four months pregnant, and I can't have you taking care of me after my back surgery. I won't do that to you."

"So what, you're going to wait until I'm seven months pregnant to have it?" I asked petulantly, folding my arms in front of me. "I really don't get you. I may be pregnant but I'm not disabled, alright? I can take care of you if needed. In fact, I don't even know why we're talking about surgery. We can't know for sure you're going to need it. Just go to the damn doctor already and find out what's wrong with your back, because you're really starting to piss me off."

"Okay, fine, calm down."

"No, I won't calm down until you promise me you'll make an appointment. I worry about you all the time, and it's not healthy for me or the baby. Promise me, Edward. Promise me you'll see a doctor."

He was quiet, just staring at me as if trying to figure out whether or not I was being serious.

"Promise me, damn it!"

"Okay, okay, I promise." He held his hands up in surrender to placate me. "I'll make an appointment on Monday. Happy now?"

"Yes," I said in a softer tone of voice, relieved that I had managed to convince him. "Thank you."

He shook his head as if he couldn't believe how quickly he had capitulated under the pressure I was putting on him. "What time is it?"

"Ten fifteen," I replied, glancing at my phone.

"Did you get any sleep?"

"Yeah, I woke up about an hour ago."

"You had ice cream. What about dinner?"

I shrugged one shoulder nonchalantly. "I skipped dinner."

His brows knitted together in a deep frown. "You know I don't like it when you skip meals. You need to take better care of yourself now that you're pregnant."

I rolled my eyes at him. "I'm fat; I really don't think I need the extra calories."

"Says who?"

"Your mother," I said simply.

He blinked rapidly a couple of times, his frown melting away as his expression softened. "Whatever she said to you, I don't think she meant it like that."

I chuckled dryly. "Oh, trust me, she did. She even mentioned Rosalie being 'thin as a toothpick' when she was carrying Jessica."

He sighed, closing the distance between us as his arms wrapped around my waist. "You know she's not well."

"That doesn't mean she has the right to call a pregnant woman fat. I have developed enough self-esteem issues without her help."

"Jesus Christ, Isabella; you're not fat, you're pregnant," he said, trying hard to keep his voice level. "Did you expect to still weigh 110 lbs. at almost seventeen weeks?"

"Well, no, but…" I trailed off, toying with his chest hair, my eyes downcast.

"But what?" he asked softly, cupping my chin and forcing me to look at him. He clearly wasn't happy with my attitude.

"Will you still find me attractive in a couple of months?" I inquired doubtfully, voicing my biggest fear.

"I told you, I'll always find you attractive no matter what," he said firmly, holding my gaze like he wanted to cement his words into my head. Then the corners of his mouth arched up in a smirk. "I actually find the baby bump and the few extra pounds incredibly sexy."

I bit on my lip, remaining silent.

"You don't believe a word I say, do you?"

"Not really." I smiled timidly.

He sighed exaggeratedly. "You're really something, you know that?" Then his hand that was around my waist descended towards my butt where he squeezed lightly. "How about I prove to you just how attractive I find your body?"

"Well, if you put it that way…" I chuckled, tugging on his chest hair playfully.

He chuckled back, leaning down to kiss me. "I love you."

"Mmm, I love you, too," I said, wrapping my arms around his neck and rising on my tiptoes to kiss him back. We kissed for a long time, all the while his hands firmly glued to my butt where he kneaded the flesh gently.

That night, as he took me to bed, I _felt_ just how much he loved me. We kissed, touched, laughed, and for the first time in a while, he made love to me. It may have lasted an hour or it may have lasted all night; I wasn't sure. What I was certain of was the intensity of the act itself and his complete dedication as I enjoyed the beauty that can only be found in the arms of a lover who truly cherishes you.

As we looked into each other's eyes, I knew he saw _me_ and I saw _him_. There were no walls, no barriers; just _us_, loving each other.

_~~ 0 ~~_

The next day, around noon, I was still in bed watching TV when Edward came out of the bathroom wearing only a white towel around his waist. His hair was damp from his shower and his eyes were sleepy from having gone to bed so late in the morning; he looked hotter than ever. I let my eyes roam freely all over his body, enjoying the view. He smiled at me knowingly in return as he walked over to the built-in closet and started pulling out clothes.

"I have to go see my mother," he said over his shoulder, pulling out a green polo t-shirt and holding it up for examination. "Do you want to come with me?"

"No, actually I was thinking about paying Angela a visit," I replied, stretching my arms over my head lazily. "I miss spending time with her."

Besides, I was in no mood to have to put up with Esme again. I'd had enough of her for the time being.

"That's a good idea," Edward encouraged, carefully placing the selected t-shirt on the back of an armchair along with a pair of dark jeans. "Go see your friend, have some fun."

"I will," I assured him, eager to have an activity that would take my mind off all the crap I'd had to deal with lately.

As soon as Edward was out the door, I picked up the phone and dialed Angela's number. She answered on the first ring.

"Hi, stranger," she greeted enthusiastically. "Long time no speak."

"We spoke yesterday, Ang," I said with a chuckle.

"Hardly. You and pretty boy were in a hurry, remember?"

"Yeah, anyway, are you working today?"

"Nope. I'm free as a bird. Why? What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking I could come by. If you're not too busy, that is."

She snorted into the phone loudly. "Busy, yeah. Ben's been playing his stupid video games since he woke up this morning, and I've been slowly dying of boredom. I was about to do some laundry just to kill time."

"Your life is so exciting," I joked, smiling widely. Talking to Angela always put me in a good mood.

"I know," she said flatly, and I could almost picture her rolling her eyes. "You're so lucky you don't have to do your own laundry. You don't have to clean or cook or even work. I want a guy like Edward, too. You said he has two brothers, right? Maybe you can set me up with one of them."

"_I heard that!"_ Ben yelled somewhere in the distance.

"You were supposed to!" Angela yelled back, stifling a laugh.

I shook my head, my eyes set on the ceiling above me. "You're insane."

"I know," she said, and I could feel the grin in her voice.

"I'll see you in an hour or so?"

"Can't wait."

After hanging up, I slowly dragged myself out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

I brushed my teeth then took a long shower, scrubbing every inch of skin I could get my hands on before shaving my legs and finally rubbing some lotion on them. When I was done, I brushed my hair and put on Edward's bathrobe before stepping back into the bedroom just in time to hear my phone beep, signaling I had a new message.

I was surprised to see it was from Edward.

_**Don't forget to have breakfast… or lunch.**_

I smiled to myself, quickly typing a reply.

_**I won't. Love u.**_

I barely had time to put the phone down before it beeped again.

_**You won't forget, or you won't have lunch?**_

"Jeez Louise," I murmured under my breath, typing another reply. "Always so freaking controlling."

_**I won't forget to have lunch. Stop worrying. Love you.**_

He didn't reply back after that, and I made my way towards the kitchen, opening the fridge and peering inside unenthusiastically. I craved pancakes but was too lazy to make them, so I just grabbed a container of yogurt and a box of granola, mixing the two into a bowl. When I was done eating, I washed the bowl and picked a banana from the fruit basket, heading back to the bedroom to change.

I arrived at my former apartment around three in the afternoon. I still had a key but decided not to be rude and rang the doorbell anyway. Ben opened the door, clad in shorts and a ratty sleeveless shirt. His dark hair was a mess and he was holding one of those wireless Xbox joysticks.

"Bella, hey." He smiled, stepping aside to let me in.

I gave him a brief hug. "Hi, Ben."

Just then Angela came running from the bathroom, the door slamming behind her.

"Out of my way!" she yelled happily, and Ben took a step back as she launched herself at me.

I squealed, not expecting the sudden impact as she hugged me tightly.

"Look at you!" she exclaimed, pulling back to take me in. I was wearing a bright yellow summer dress and platform sandals, and by the way she was looking at me, my outfit clearly had her approval. "You look so damn pretty. The pregnancy is really becoming you. And you have a tan! I haven't seen you with a tan in years."

"Thanks." I blushed. We talked on the phone several times a week but hadn't had time to see each other since Edward and I came back from Europe.

"How's my niece?" She patted my stomach gently.

"I hate to break it to you, but we found out it's a he." I smiled down at my baby bump then looked at her. "And your _nephew _is doing fine."

"Oh man," she lamented, making a face. But then, almost immediately, she grinned widely, waving me off. "I'm kidding, that's so great! Did you think of a name for him yet?"

"No." I shook my head. "We just found out a couple of days ago."

"Can I suggest a name?" She said, grabbing my hand and dragging me towards the living room, Ben following right behind us. "I bought this book '_100,000+ Baby Names', _and I found a few that I really like."

She gestured for me to sit on the couch as she took the spot next to me. Ben settled on the floor in front of his video game, his back to us.

"Okay, shoot," I urged curiously.

"So, if the baby was a girl, I was going to suggest Amelia or Elizeé, but since he's a boy, I'll go for Aidan or Matthew."

I nodded approvingly. "Aidan is nice."

"Right?" She grinned, flashing me her white but slightly crooked front teeth.

"Although, I like Matthew too. It's a good name. I think Edward would like it as well."

"Great, we have a name for him, then," she said triumphantly

"Hey, don't get too excited just yet. I have to talk to Edward first."

"Well, hurry up then," she said, leaning against the back of the couch and folding her legs Indian-style. "I want to start knitting him tiny sweaters with his name on them and stuff."

I laughed loudly, briefly distracting Ben from his video game and causing him to throw us a quick glace over his shoulder. "You don't know how to knit a sweater, Ang."

She waved me off dismissively. "I'll learn. I mean how hard can it be, right? I already bought the knitting needles and wool. I have pink, blue, yellow and white wool."

"Awwww." I placed my hand over my heart, really touched by how sweet and caring she was being. My hormones were threatening to take over, so I gave her a watery smile and dabbed at my eyes before enveloping her in a bear hug.

"God, I missed you," I said into her hair, my voice muffled and rough with emotion.

She patted me on the back gently. "I missed you, too. I miss you every single day. You're the only roommate I ever had. Living with Ben is great, but we both still have some adjusting to do."

I pulled back to look at her. "I know what you mean. I love living with Edward, but we have _a lot_ of adjusting to do, as well."

"Yeah." She smiled sadly, her eyes gliding over to her boyfriend. "Hey, Ben?"

"Yeah, babe?" he replied, not even glancing her way.

She huffed, getting annoyed with him. "Don't be rude, offer Bella a drink."

"Hmmm?" he said distractedly, his thumbs hitting the buttons forcefully.

"Ben!" she snapped, and he startled, his head immediately whirling in our direction. "I said go get Bella a drink."

"Oh, right." He pressed pause and stood up, scratching at the nape of his neck. "So, um, what can I get you, Bella? I think we have some apple juice, water, beer…"

Angela groaned, irritated. "Are you being serious right now? The woman's pregnant and you ask her if she wants beer?"

"Sorry." He gave me a sheepish smile, his gaze drifting over to my stomach. "I'm just… I'm not used to you being pregnant."

"It's alright." I chuckled softly. "I'll have some iced water please."

He started jogging towards the kitchen, and Angela rolled her eyes, the corners of her lips betraying her masked amusement. "Not that I plan on getting knocked up anytime soon, but when I do, I'm definitely not having Ben's kids."

I laughed, knowing she was only joking, and she angled her body towards me, her smile getting bigger. "So tell me; how's life with Cullen? Is he treating you well?"

"Yeah, I like living with him. Although… we kind of had a huge fight a couple of days ago."

"Oh." Her brows drew together in a small frown. "Why?"

I told her everything that had transpired between Edward and I since the ultrasound, and by the time I was finished with my little story, Angela was staring at me, unseeing.

"Wow," she murmured. "Looks like you went through a serious rough patch."

I sighed. "Yeah, story of my life."

"But you guys are okay now, right?" she asked, sounding a bit concerned.

"Yeah, we're good, don't worry. We talked, and I think he finally got that I won't accept that kind of behavior from him again."

Angela was quiet for a little while, contemplating what I had just told her before she spoke again. "Look, Bella, you know I'm always on your side, no matter what, but try to put yourself in his place. He's been manipulated by that she devil he calls mother his entire life. His family is seriously fucked up. The only person he ever truly trusted was his wife, and she died before her time. It's going to take some time for him to open up and trust another woman like that again. It's obvious he loves you, or else he wouldn't have asked you to marry him, baby or not.

"You know what I see in him? I see a man who's hiding behind that huge wall he built around his heart because he's too afraid of getting hurt again. You managed to knock down part of that wall when you came into his life, but part of it is still there. You just need to push a little more and eventually it will crumble just like the rest of it."

"When did you get so philosophical?" I questioned teasingly, although I knew she was probably right.

"I'm serious. I really believe he loves you a lot. He may have his flaws, but he's a pretty decent guy, and decent guys aren't easy to find these days." Angela smiled and clapped her hands together. "But enough serious talk. How about we go out, do something fun just the two of us?"

"Won't Ben mind if we leave him here?" I asked apprehensively.

Angela shrugged. "He can't wait to have the apartment to himself so he can have his idiot friends over. And speaking of Ben, where the hell is he? He was supposed to bring you your water like fifteen minutes ago."

As if on cue, the door to the kitchen opened and Ben emerged holding my glass of water.

"Sorry for taking so long," he apologized, handing me the glass. "I was on the phone with a friend."

"Don't worry about it."

"We're going out," Angela announced, getting up.

"Yeah? Where?" Ben asked, and even though he was trying to be cool about it for the sake of their relationship, I could see a lick of suspicion flash through his eyes.

I guess old habits die hard. He had always been very possessive of her which was the main reason she had decided to break up with him almost a year before. But he was making an effort, and I had to hand it to him; his question was more inquisitive than accusatory. He was really trying to be a better man because he loved her so much.

Angela sighed, closing the distance between them and placing a light kiss on his lips. "I don't know, but I'll probably be home before eight, alright? I'm going to take a quick shower and change clothes. Bella, I won't be long."

When she was out of sight, Ben turned to me. He smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

_~~ 0 ~~_

Sometime later, Angela and I found ourselves at _Café des Architectes_. I was hungry and she wanted dessert, and since _Café des Architectes_ was one of the best restaurants I knew in Chicago, I had managed to convince her to give it a try.

"Wow, this place is… wow," she whispered in my ear as one of the hostesses led us to our table. "Are you sure we can afford it?"

"Relax," I whispered back. "I have both mine and Edward's credit card. The prices are a little steep but the food is amazing."

She grinned insinuatingly. "Okay, since you're paying, I'll knock myself out."

"Please do. Edward is continuously nagging me that I never use the credit card he gave me when we came back from Europe."

We sat at the table, and the hostess placed the menus in front of us before departing.

"So how does it feel being jobless?" Angela asked, picking up her menu.

I did the same, browsing through it slowly. "I've been so immersed in family drama that I didn't even have time to think about it. It feels okay, I guess. But it's only been like two days since I quit. I don't think I'll miss the actual job of selling books, but I _will_ miss that feeling of being independent. Now I depend entirely on Edward, and I'm not sure I'll ever get used to it."

"You hate it, don't you?"

I smiled because she knew me so well. "I don't hate it, but I don't love it either. I've just accepted it. I'm used to taking care of myself, you know?"

"I know, but maybe it's time you start trusting someone else to take care of you," she said, giving me a pointed look. "You see, both of you have trust issues you need to work out."

I shrugged, letting my gaze roam aimlessly around the spacious restaurant. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

"You know I'm right."

All of a sudden, my eyes landed on a familiar face, and my knees went weak even though I was seated. A cold chill ran down my spine as my heart started galloping wildly. Running into _her_ merely a day after practically jumping at each other's throats had to be the shittiest thing that could have happened to me.

"Oh no," I breathed, nervous as hell.

"What?" Angela asked, staring at me in confusion.

"Edward's sister-in-law."

"Where?"

"Over there." I nodded in Rosalie's general direction, and she followed my gaze.

Angela glanced between Rosalie and her companion, an extremely beautiful blonde, her brow furrowing. "Which one?"

"The blonde," I replied dumbly, not really thinking. I was too focused on trying to figure out whether or not she had spotted me as well. Judging by the calm manner in which she conversed with her friend, I suspected she hadn't.

"They're both blonde," Angela retorted dryly.

"Oh, right," I answered, making an effort to tear my eyes away. "The one in red."

"Hmmm." She cocked her head to the side, analyzing Rosalie for a second before throwing me a conspiratorial look. "Oh yeah, now I remember her. She looks like a major _biatch_."

"She is, and I know this first hand." I chuckled uneasily, letting my eyes wander back to their table. Only this time, I was met with Rosalie's icy stare. She had definitely noticed me now.

"Oh crap," I whispered furiously, hiding my face behind my menu.

Angela sighed. "She saw you, didn't she?"

"Yep," I said to the menu, trying to look like I was actually having a hard time deciding what to have. "I think we should leave. Like right now."

"Oh no, we're not going anywhere."

"What?" I gritted through clenched teeth. "I'm not in the mood for this, Angela. I've taken enough bullshit from Edward's family. I really want to go."

"You can't just let her bully you around. Grow some balls, damn it. Besides, we didn't even get to order, and I'm not leaving until I've devoured the expensive food you're paying for."

As if on cue, our waiter decided to show up just then. He propped himself in front of me almost strategically, thankfully blocking my view of Rosalie.

"What can I get you ladies?" he asked, smiling down at us.

Angela gave me a pointed look before redirecting her attention to her menu. "I'll have the _Spring Greens_ and the _Duroc Pork Tenderloin_."

He nodded, jotted down her order then looked at me expectantly.

I sighed, realizing there was no way out of this. I just hoped Rosalie decided to ignore my presence rather than cause a scene in the middle of such a high class restaurant.

"And I guess I'll have the _Spring Greens_ and the _Skuna Bay Salmon_," I said half-heartedly.

"Would you like dessert?"

"No," both Angela and I replied in unison, causing the waiter to crack another smile.

"Drinks?"

"Just water for me," I replied, putting down my menu. "Flat."

"And a glass of Pinot Grigio for me, please."

"Good choice," he said, picking up our menus. "I'll have your drinks in a minute."

He scurried off, and my eyes immediately searched for Rosalie. She was still discussing with her blonde friend, her chair now at a different angle. She was sitting almost with her back to me, only a small portion of her profile visible from our table. Apparently she was as willing to acknowledge me as I was to having a root canal procedure performed on me by a psychopath.

Angela rolled her eyes at me. "Can we please at least pretend that she's not here? Let's just ignore her. She seems to be doing the same thing."

"Yeah," I said, looking away as the waiter placed our drinks in front of us. "Let's just… enjoy our dinner."

She let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you. We have a lot of catching up to do. I want to know more about your trip to France, about being pregnant… about everything."

We chatted for a little while, and I tried to relax and enjoy our evening together. Sometime later, our waiter returned with our _entrées_, and the food looked and smelled so delicious that I was glad I had stayed.

I was enjoying my first bite and listening to Angela praise the food when we were interrupted by my phone starting to ring. I had never been happier to see Edward's name flash on the display.

"Hey," I answered softly.

"Hey, where are you?"

"Um, I'm at _Café des Architectes_ with Angela. You?"

"On my way home. But… I could detour and join the two of you for dinner if you wanted me to," he replied playfully. He sounded like he was in a much better mood than the previous days, which meant things with his mother had settled down some.

"Yeah, sure," I said eagerly. "That would be great."

"Really? I was actually joking but if you insist…"

"Just hurry up." I knew my voice had a stressed edge to it.

There was a small pause before he spoke again, his tone of voice no longer playful. "Is something wrong, Isabella?"

"Rosalie is here," I said succinctly.

"Ah, well," he paused again, "I'll be there in ten minutes."

As I hung up, Angela peered at me curiously. "He's on his way, isn't he?"

"Yeah."

"I figured."

I gave her an apologetic look. "Sorry, I really don't want to ruin our little get-together, but I'll feel much better knowing he's here if Rosalie decides to finally acknowledge me."

"Are you afraid of her or something? I'm not judging you, I'm just curious."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "No, I'm just afraid I won't be able to control myself around her. She tends to bring out the worst in me." I took a deep resounding breath. "And it's important for me and the baby that doesn't happen."

Edward arrived twenty minutes later. He pulled the chair closest to me, leaning over to greet me with a kiss.

"Hey, sorry I'm late. I had to stop at the gas station. Hi, Angela."

"Hey." She waved, taking another sip from her wine.

"Where is she?" he inquired, scanning the room subtly.

"Over there." I nodded in her direction just as carefully, offering him a tight smile.

As soon as his gaze found her, his brow furrowed. "What the hell is she doing with Lauren?" he said, almost to himself.

"_That_ Lauren?" I asked, remembering the fight we'd had because of her.

He gave me an apprehensive look. "Yeah."

"Great," I muttered, tossing my napkin on the table furiously. "Just what I needed."

"I don't know what Rosalie's doing with Lauren," he said defensively. "They're not even friends."

I suspected Rosalie might have had an agenda where her dinner date with Lauren was concerned - but decided to keep that theory to myself… at least for the time being.

"How's Esme?" I abruptly changed the subject, trying to take my mind off the fact that the woman sitting a few feet away was the one Esme favored for the role of her future daughter-in-law. She hated me but she had always loved _Lauren._

"Mad at me and everyone else for locking her away in that clinic."

A low 'hmmm' was all I could get out. In fact, I wanted to yell at him I was glad that monster he called mother was in that awful place. But I knew I couldn't do that, so I just went back to enjoying my first course. I was fuming inside, but I was trying really hard not to show it.

The waiter came back to take Edward's order, and he decided to have the same as I did. He and Angela made small talk while I just sulked away, from time to time, throwing Lauren a fugitive glance.

Sometime later, I was pulled out of my dark thoughts by a familiar voice.

"Good evening," Rosalie spoke, her voice matching her stony expression.

I startled and dropped my fork on the table with a loud thud. Everyone stared at me, and I blushed, apologizing.

"Rosalie," Edward greeted with a stiff nod, standing up like the gentleman he was. "Lauren."

"Oh, Edward, it's so good to see you," Lauren gushed, smiling at him like the Cheshire cat. "You look better than ever."

I took a moment to analyze her. She was tall, tan, had skinny legs a mile long, shiny blond hair, blue eyes and by the looks of it, a very nice pair of silicones. To sum it all up, she was pretty much every man's wet dream.

"Thank you; you do too," Edward replied politely, gesturing towards me. "This is my fiancée, Isabella, and her friend Angela."

She looked down at me, her smile now forced. "Oh. I didn't know you were engaged."

"Neither did I," Rosalie stated coolly, piercing him with her intense stare.

"Oh, it's… it's not official yet…" he stammered, probably just now realizing what he'd said. We both knew he shouldn't have said it, but I was sure glad for the opportunity to rub it in.

Lauren laughed skeptically, rubbing his upper arm. "Is that your way of saying she refused you?"

I stared at her hand on _my _boyfriend, wishing I could just get up and bitch slap her. She was being deliberately flirty with Edward, and I was just about to put her in her place.

I plastered a fake smile on my face. "No, he just can't decide what ring to get me. I said I wanted the ring to be a surprise and he's been searching for that perfect diamond ever since. He's very picky, you know."

My reply seemed to have the desired effect. She removed her hand and pursed her lips, her attention focusing on me. She studied my face for a minute as if trying to decipher whether or not I was lying.

"Did you set a date yet?" she asked, watching me attentively.

"No, but I want a summer wedding," I said promptly, not breaking eye contact. "Don't worry you'll get an invitation when the time comes."

"Probably after the baby is born, right?" Angela chimed in, and Lauren's head snapped in her direction.

"Baby?" She now looked like she was in shock. "What baby?"

"Oh, you didn't know?" I said sweetly, rubbing a hand over my stomach. "I'm four months pregnant. Edward's going to be a father."

"Oh." She followed my movements with wide eyes. "Wow. Uh… congratulations, I guess."

"We should leave," Rosalie snapped, obviously irritated. "Lauren just wanted to say hi."

"Yeah," Lauren said, throwing Rosalie a reproachful glare. "We really should go. It was nice meeting you."

"Yeah, you too," I said, waving.

"I'll see you around," she told Edward before pushing her bag higher up her shoulder and walking away with Rosalie in tow. Clearly she was mad that Rosalie hadn't told her about the baby, and I wondered why.

"Why do you keep telling people I'm your fiancée?" I asked Edward as he sat back down.

He shrugged. "Does it bother you?"

"No, but it's not true."

"I like the sound of it. I like calling you my fiancée instead of just my girlfriend. Besides, you already agreed to marry me… someday."

"I don't remember agreeing to it," I replied, half teasing, half annoyed that the two harpies had ruined my evening.

He stared at me for a moment, not sure whether I meant it or not. "You didn't turn me down either. If it bothers you that much, I'll stop calling you that."

"I told you it doesn't bother me," I said with a sigh. "It's actually kind of… nice."

A knowing smile crept its way to his face as he took my hand in his and kissed the back of it. "One day, you'll say yes."

_~~ 0 ~~_

On Wednesday morning Edward and I found ourselves at the hospital yet again. Edward had kept his promise and made an appointment for his back. We were both nervous to hear what the doctor had to say, and even though he didn't like admitting it, Edward knew just as well as I did that ignoring the issue was not an option anymore. Instead of ameliorating, his condition was getting worse with each passing day.

"See this?" the doctor said, pointing to the screen. "This is your herniated disc at the L5-S1 in the lumbar spine. This tear in the disc ring has resulted in the release of inflammatory chemical mediators which is what's causing you severe pain in the lower back region. To better understand what's happening, imagine the soft cushion that sits between the spinal vertebrae being pushed outside its normal position.

"Now, a herniated disc wouldn't be such a big problem if it weren't for the spinal nerves that are very close to the spinal discs. The sciatic nerve is the most commonly affected nerve, causing symptoms of sciatica which is what you've been experimenting since the crash."

"How bad is it?" Edward asked, his thumb rubbing nervous circles in the center of my palm. "Do I need surgery?"

The doctor sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Unfortunately, yes."

"Great," he spat, letting go of my hand to tug at his hair. "Just… fucking great."

"Considering the results of the physical exam and your symptoms, I think the best solution is surgical intervention. You are entitled to ask for a second opinion, of course."

Edward shook his head, starting to look desperate. "This _is_ me asking for a second opinion. The doctor I saw right after the car accident told me it was going to heal by itself, with time."

"Usually, about 50% of people with a herniated disc in the low back recover within a month. You haven't. In fact, your condition seems to be deteriorating. Back pain alone isn't reason enough for surgery, but persistent pain in the leg as well as weakness and limitation of daily activities definitely is."

I gave Edward a disapproving look. "I thought the leg pain was gone. You didn't tell me you still had it."

"Going to the chiropractor made it less intense, but it's still there. Not always though. Just… sometimes."

"Have you taken any medication for the pain?" the doctor inquired, sitting at his desk and jotting something down.

"Yes. It helps, but after a while the pain is back. It's been two and a half months since the accident. I should have gotten better by now, right?"

"That's correct." The doctor nodded, peering at Edward over the rim of his glasses. "But don't worry; surgery is not as bad as it sounds. You're young and in good health; I can guarantee you'll make a quick recovery."

"Good, because being disabled for too long is the last thing I need or want. Too many people depend on me."

"I understand. Well then, let's discuss surgery. I'll be out of the country for the next week or so, but we can make an appointment for as soon as I get back."

Later, as we were heading back to the apartment, Edward reached over the gearshift to take my hand in his. He had been silent since stepping out of the doctor's office, and I knew he was stressing over his impending plight.

"We should go to Forks this weekend," he said quietly, keeping his eyes on the road.

I glanced over at him. "Are you sure you'll be able to make the trip with me?"

He huffed, annoyed. "I have back pain, I'm not invalid, Isabella. Of course I can make the trip with you."

"I just don't want you doing anything that could aggravate the situation and cause you unnecessary pain."

"I'll be fine."

He let go of my hand and pulled his Blackberry out of his pocket, hitting a few buttons before bringing it to his ear. "Victoria, I need you to book me two first class plane tickets to Seattle. Friday morning… Yes… Okay, thank you. I'll be at the office in about half an hour; I need to drop Isabella off first… Yes, have the files ready by then."

He hung up, placing the phone in my lap. "It's done. We leave on Friday morning."

I smoothed my palm over the hair at the nape of his neck. "Thank you."

He smiled, but I could tell it wasn't genuine. His fear of surgery was putting a damper on his mood. "You're most welcome."

Glancing out my window, I couldn't help the excitement starting to bubble inside.

I was going home.

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><p><strong>AN Loved it? Hated it? Let me know. **

**Also, next chapter stays in Bella's POV.**

**As always, thank you for reading!**

**~Andreea~**


	31. Chapter 30: Wistful

**A/N Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry... please don't lynch me!**

**Mid Night-Cougar and Jen McNamara are the best for not giving up on me!**

**I give you this as a peace offering...**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 30<strong>

**Isabella Pov**

* * *

><p><em>~ August 24<em>_th__, 2012 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

"Ready?" Edward asked, closing the trunk to the rental car.

I smiled, giving the Sea-Tac Airport's parking lot one last look. My gaze lingered on the horizon where the mountains dwelled, and I inhaled the fresh air deeply. "Yeah."

He rounded the car and got inside, closing the door behind him. I hesitated for a moment, still mesmerized by the mountains I hadn't laid eyes on in a long time before reluctantly doing the same.

"I can't believe we're here," I said, putting on my seatbelt as he turned on the engine and put the car in motion. "Last time I saw Seattle was when I left for college."

Edward smiled a bit sadly, and I suspected he was thinking of my parents.

"Have you ever been here before?" I reached over to toy with the hair at the nape of his neck as it had become my habit.

"Yes, but only on business," he replied, leaning back into my touch. Over the months, I had noticed that my doing this seemed to have somewhat of a calming effect on him.

"I can't wait for you to see Forks. It's so quiet and peaceful."

"Mmmm," he hummed, letting out a soft sigh.

"Are you alright?" I inquired, watching his profile attentively. He had been unusually quiet the entire flight, and I was starting to worry that he was taking his impending surgery harder than I had initially thought.

"Yeah," he answered after a moment of silence. "I think this weekend away from Chicago and all of our problems is going to be good for us. I for one feel like I need to rest and just take my mind off of everything that's been going on lately."

I leaned over to give his cheek a light peck. "Well, Forks is just the place for that. I'm sure you're going to love it there."

He hummed again affirmatively, but remained quiet for the rest of the drive, which left me with nothing else to do but stare out my window and listen to the soft music playing on the radio.

Later, as we were pulling into the small driveway, and my eyes landed on the modest two-story house, an intense wave of melancholy overcame me. For a few fleeting seconds, I felt like I couldn't breathe, the sight lying in front of me causing such strong emotions that I had to look away to keep my composure.

Edward must have felt my inner turmoil because he reached over to run his warm palm over my thigh in a soothing manner. I glanced over at him, and he smiled gently as if to say 'it's okay' before taking my hand in his and placing a kiss on my wrist.

"Ready?" he asked again, but this time, I knew his question had a deeper meaning.

"Ready." I nodded, opening the passenger door and stepping outside.

I stood beside the car with my hands shoved into my jeans' back pockets as I took in my surroundings. Everything looked absolutely the same: the house, the woods, the small garden full of bright pink peonies, and most importantly, the tree-house my dad had built for me when I was ten. I could almost see him, perched up on a branch, hammer in hand and a couple of doornails between his lips as he worked on it relentlessly.

Even the mountain's fresh air I was currently breathing brought back so many memories.

"I can't believe how much I missed this place," I murmured.

"Nice garden," Edward commented from behind me, placing his hand on my shoulder and kneading the muscles he found there gently.

"Yeah, my dad loved his flowers. I'm glad Sam and Leah decided to keep it though."

"You're the owner, don't you have a say in this?"

"You can't force someone to keep a garden if they don't feel like taking care of it, can you?" I asked, looking at him sideways.

Just then, the front door burst open and Sam jogged down the stairs with a wide grin on his face. "Well, well, look who's here."

I smiled, taking him in as he made his way towards us. He was taller and bulkier than I remembered, his small playful eyes alternating between my face and my baby bump. If he was surprised, he didn't show it.

Sam and his wife Emily had been living there ever since I had moved to Chicago. They were a young couple, married for a little over a year, and the only people I trusted with the house.

After my parents died and I decided to leave Forks, I didn't know what to do with the place. I didn't want to sell it, but I couldn't just let it deteriorate over the years either.

So, one day, only a week away from my imminent departure, Sam showed up saying he'd given it a lot of thought and he wanted to rent the house. He and Emily had been together since freshman year, and they felt like it was time they had a place of their own.

Forks being the incredibly small town that it was, I had practically known both of them since I was a baby. I trusted them, so it didn't take me long to accept. They didn't have a lot to offer since Emily was a college student and Sam worked at the local auto shop, but I was more interested that the house was being taken care of properly than money.

"Hi, Sam," I said, letting him envelop me into a bear hug as a low chuckle escaped me. "Jeez, what has Emily been feeding you?"

He shrugged, continuing to grin down at me. "Long time no see, Bells."

"Yeah, I know. It feels good to be home."

He let go of me to shake Edward's hand. "You must be Edward."

"Nice to meet you," Edward replied, smiling politely.

"You too, man." Sam looked him up and down curiously before calling over his shoulder for his wife. "Hey, Emily! Bella's here."

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" came Emily's rushed reply, and a few seconds later, she was running out of the house with a blue apron on. "Oh my God, Bella!" she squealed excitedly as she hugged me. "You look… pregnant!"

"Yeah, well, I am," I chuckled. "Four months along actually."

"You look amazing," she gushed, staring at me in awe. "Chicago really is good for you."

"It is." I nodded, gesturing towards Edward. "This is my… well… I guess he's my future-to-be fiancé, Edward."

"Can't say I heard a lot about you, but it's definitely nice to meet you," she said, watching him with the same air of curiosity as did her husband.

Emily and I spoke on the phone every few months or so, last time being on Wednesday when Edward had booked the plane tickets. She knew I was seeing someone, but aside from Edward's name and a few minor details, she was pretty much clueless about him.

"Likewise. It's nice to finally meet some of Isabella's childhood friends." Edward smiled, unlocking the trunk of the car and starting to unload our luggage.

"Here, let me help you," Sam offered.

"Thanks."

"Come, Bella," Emily said, taking my hand. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

She led me into the house, and as soon as I stepped in, I couldn't help but notice the changes. The first thing that caught my eye was the walls' deep shade of purple instead of the bright, soothing yellow I was used to. And even though I was well-informed about the small renovations they had made over the years, I had to push back a wave of indignation.

On the outside, everything looked the same while on the inside _nothing_ resembled my parents' home anymore. There were new carpets, new light fixtures, a new sofa, a new TV set, personal photos and even a couple of paintings that weren't there before. I had agreed to all of it, but now, as I took in what they'd done with the house, I felt so out of place, like I didn't belong there anymore. On paper, the house was still mine, but in a practical way, I knew it wasn't anymore. They had made it theirs, and I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that I was intruding.

"Wow, the house looks great," I mumbled politely when I could find my voice, still taken aback.

"Thanks." Emily beamed, oblivious to my inner turmoil. "After the wedding, we just felt like we needed to make some changes, you know?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it."

"It's okay," she assured me. "You saw the pictures. It was a really small wedding, very private. You didn't miss out on anything. Oh, and by the way, Sam and I decided to spend the weekend in Seattle; you know, let you guys have the place to yourselves. We're leaving tomorrow morning, bright and early."

"Oh, Em, you really don't have to do that," I said, suddenly feeling bad they thought they had to leave just because we were there. "This is _your _home, we're only visiting."

She waved me off. "Nonsense. You two need privacy, and Sam and I could use a little getaway from this small town's monotony."

"Did you hear that, Edward?" I asked, turning to him as he and Sam stepped into the foyer carrying our luggage.

"It's awfully nice of them," he replied, giving Emily a grateful smile. I knew he had wanted privacy, and she was offering him just that.

"Sam, show Edward where the guest bedroom is, will you?" Emily addressed her husband.

Sam nodded, and Emily grabbed my hand, guiding me towards the kitchen where something smelled really good.

"Sit, sit," she urged, gesturing to a chair, grabbing a kitchen towel and opening the oven door.

"What are you making?" I asked curiously as I sat down.

"Cherry pie," she replied, bending down to check on it quickly then closing the door to the oven.

"It smells amazing," I noted, the cherry scent so prevalent, it was enough to make my mouth water.

"Are you hungry? You must be. Can I fix you guys a sandwich or something? Dinner won't be ready for a couple more hours."

"A sandwich would be great, thanks. We actually ate on the plane, but I seem to be hungry all the time now."

Her gaze settled on my stomach, and she shook her head as if she had a hard time comprehending what she was seeing. "I can't believe you're pregnant."

I chuckled, rubbing a hand over my baby bump gently. "That makes two of us, actually. It all happened so fast…"

"It seems like yesterday you were just a high school kid, and now look at you! You're all mature and stuff."

"I can say the same about you."

"Yeah," she chuckled. "I miss those days. Being a grown up kind of sucks."

I smiled. "Some days it does. I have to say I'm surprised you and Sam don't have a little one running around yet. I know you're crazy about kids."

"Eh. There are some other things we need to take care of first," she replied cryptically. "Have you and Edward been together long?"

"We've known each other for about a year, but we've been in a relationship for eight months."

Her eyes widened for a split second before she caught herself and adopted a more nonchalant expression. "Wow, you're sure moving fast," she remarked, walking over to the fridge and pulling out what she needed to make sandwiches.

If she were anyone else, I would have probably found her comment rude or malicious. But she was Emily, and I knew she hadn't intended to offend me in any way. It wasn't a secret to anyone that my relationship with Edward was a bit atypical, but I believed that had no relevance to its evolution in time. What really mattered was that we loved each other and we were going to have a family together. The rest was merely details.

"Maybe we _are_ moving fast, but I feel like I've known him my entire life," I said a bit defensively, although I hadn't intended to sound that way.

She sighed, putting down the cheese and turning around to look me in the eye. "Are you happy?"

"I am," I answered, not missing a beat. "We may have our ups and downs, but he makes me _feel_ so much. Before meeting him, I never knew love like this existed."

Suddenly, a truly genuine smile lit up her face. "I know what you mean."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Later, after dinner, we were all sitting in the living room making small talk. Emily appeared with an uncorked bottle of wine and two glasses for the men, and I couldn't help but notice just how much effort she'd put into making the evening a pleasant one.

"Dinner was absolutely delicious," Edward complimented, accepting the glass of wine she was offering. "Thank you, Emily."

Sam stared at his glass with a bit of a frown, and I smiled to myself. He hated wine but was trying to be a good host for Edward's sake.

"You're making me blush." Emily grinned, patting her cheeks. "I'm glad you liked it though. French food isn't exactly one of my fortes, so I have to admit I was a little afraid of screwing up."

Edward flashed her a warm smile. "Your _coq au vin_ was flawless."

"You sure know how to compliment a woman. I almost forgot what it felt like," she said teasingly, giving her husband a pointed look.

Sam rolled his eyes at her, angling his body closer to me on the couch. "So, I see life's been treating you good, Bells. You got yourself a pretty decent man, too. What does he do anyway?"

"He's a real estate attorney," I answered, watching Emily sit in an armchair next to Edward and start a conversation with him.

Sam looked taken aback for a split moment. "Interesting... I see it's pretty serious." He nodded towards my baby bump. "You plan on marrying him?"

I sighed. "Yeah, someday."

"Long story?" he asked, sensing there was more to our relationship than I was letting on.

"You could say that."

He nodded again, bringing the wine to his lips and taking a small sip. He made a face, put the glass down on the coffee table then turned back to me.

"Listen, there's something I really wanted to talk to you about."

"Shoot," I said, downing the last of my cranberry juice and setting down the glass.

He paused for a minute, looking like he was contemplating where to start.

"Emily and I have been living here for the past five years or so… and this is practically home to us. We love this house just as much as you do and soon we want to start a family of our own… here. What I'm trying to say is that we'd really, really like to buy it from you. We've been saving like crazy for the past two years, and our parents are willing to help, so I think I can offer you a pretty fair deal."

"Sam, I…" I trailed off, disconcerted by his proposal.

He held his hands up to stop me. "Listen, you don't need to give me an answer straight away. I know this house means a lot to you. All I'm asking is that you think about it. We really need a place of our own and there aren't many options to choose from in Forks."

He looked so hopeful that I couldn't just flat out refuse him. Besides, he did have a point. I loved the house because it was the only tangible memory I had left of my parents, but my life wasn't in Forks anymore.

"Okay, I'll think about it. I'll let you know by the end of the weekend."

He let out a relieved chuckle. "Thanks. I was kind of nervous about bringing up the subject."

"What are you two talking about?" Emily inquired, peering at us over the rim of her glass.

"I was telling Bella about our plans with the house. She promised she'll think about it."

"I know selling it was never your intention, but you'd be doing us a huge favor. I don't want to start a family without at least having a home we can call our own."

As soon as the word _sell _escaped Emily's mouth, Edward's eyes snapped to me. He sat up straighter, any trace of a smile gone from his face. His business instinct was kicking in as he listened attentively to what I was being offered. A price was mentioned, and I could see the frown on his face. The offer displeased him, but he remained quiet. The only indicators to his mood were the frown he was sporting and the light thumping he made with his leg whenever he was agitated.

Emily must have noticed because she suddenly jumped up from her seat. "Who wants dessert?"

"I could have some dessert," I said promptly, desperate for a change of subject. Selling was a big deal, I was aware of that, but I wanted the tension in the room gone. I had two days to think about it.

"Me too." Sam got up from the sofa. "I'll help with the plates."

They both disappeared into the kitchen, and I was left alone with Edward. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by my phone starting to ring.

"It's Angela," I said, bringing the phone to my ear and practically ending a conversation that hadn't even started yet. "Hey, you."

"_Hey, hey_," Angela greeted cheerfully on the other end of the line.

Edward got up without another word, heading upstairs. Half an hour later, he still hadn't come back down, so I made myself a cup of tea and stepped outside for some fresh air, leaving Emily and Sam to watch TV. On instinct, I headed over to the tree-house, making sure the stairs were still stable before climbing up.

I stood on deck for a while, simply taking in the silent neighborhood. Across the street, Mrs. Graham was doing dishes in the kitchen while Mr. Graham sat on the porch smoking a cigarette. He spotted me and waved, blowing out thick smoke all around him.

"Still climbing that tree like a spider monkey, huh?" he called out, grinning.

I shrugged. "I guess old habits die hard."

He laughed heartily. "Sam told me you were coming home. It's good to see you, kid."

I smiled. "It's good to see you too, Mr. Graham."

The front door opened and Edward stepped out. He looked around, his eyes finding me then moving on to Mr. Graham.

"Good evening," he greeted politely before walking over in my direction.

"Evening," Mr. Graham replied lazily, taking the cigarette to his lips once again.

Edward climbed up, joining me on deck, and I noticed his hair was damp from a shower and he had changed clothes.

"This is actually a nice tree-house…very cool," he noted, draping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me to him.

"Cool, huh?" I grinned up at him, my free hand finding its way into his back pocket.

"Yeah." He smiled, glancing down at the mug I was holding. "What are you drinking?"

"Tea," I replied, holding the mug up in offering. "You want some?"

He shook his head, his eyes finding mine. He held my gaze for a minute, looking as if he was thinking hard about something. Then he sighed, his expression becoming more serious.

"You know, I could get you a better price," he said cautiously, his fingers starting to knead my upper arm gently.

I sighed, looking away.

"It's not about the money, Edward, you know that. I _want_ them to have the house," I replied, watching as Mr. Graham put out his cigarette and stood up, heading inside. "It's just… it's going to be so difficult letting this place go. I grew up here. My parents and I made such beautiful memories. Everywhere I look, I can almost see my mom and dad doing random stuff about the house. Their memory is still so vivid here."

"I understand," Edward said quietly.

I shifted my gaze towards our old house. Everything was dark, the only source of light coming from the TV in the living room. For a split second I was transported back in time.

_It was as if they were still there, watching the evening's news or a movie while I sat on my little deck with a book in hand and my favorite hoodie on. _

_At around 8 p.m. Angela usually made an appearance, her own book tucked under her arm. First she gave me the 411 on whatever had transpired at school that day and I didn't know about. Then she whined about Ben spending too much time with his jock friends. I complained about what a lousy boyfriend Mike was being. And then we gossiped some more. We never got to read anything together._

_Later, my mom stepped out on the porch, calling to us that it was time for bed. We both grumbled, reluctantly climbing down and saying goodbye for the night. On weekends, Angela slept over._

_As I passed my mother in the doorway, I gave her a kiss on the cheek. She smiled, caressing my hair and whispering words of affection. _

_Next was my dad. He sat in his favorite recliner, a beer in hand. He spotted me walking over to him and his mustache twitched as he tried to hide his grin. He loved when I kissed him goodnight._

_Then, as I lay in my warm bed, waiting for sleep to come, I felt blessed. I had my parents, my friends and Mike… even though sometimes he was an asshole. I had my books to keep me company when I was alone and my diary to confide in when Angela wasn't around. I had rainy days that I had grown to love because I could stay inside and read, and those rare sunny days that I had learned to cherish. I had the mountains and the woods and the beach._

_I had everything._

_And then… I had nothing._

"I loved them so much," I whispered, my emotions threatening to take over.

I had lost my parents but gained Edward and our baby, and for that I was thankful. For the first time since the death of my parents, I was starting to rely on someone other than myself.

Although he had made some serious mistakes in regards to our relationship, Edward was quickly becoming my rock; that solid fortress I could hide behind each time things got too much for me to take. And even though I wasn't the kind of woman to cower in her partner's shadow whenever life threw her a curveball, I did have my moments of weakness. Despite everything, with him I felt safe.

He had his flaws, but he was good to me. He was both strong and powerful. He was sweet and caring and such a wonderful man.

We still had to work on some things. Our relationship was far from perfect, but I was ready to face the world as a team.

"I know you did," he said, pulling me closer and wrapping both arms around me. "I'm sure they loved you back just as much."

"I still miss them. I miss them every day."

He sighed softly. "I know, baby. I know." His breath was warm on my cheek as he pressed his lips there. "You're tired. We should go back inside."

"Yeah," I agreed but made no move to detangle myself from his embrace. It felt good to be so close to him. The past couple of weeks hadn't been easy on our relationship, and I craved his affection.

"Come on," he coaxed, pulling away and taking my hand in his. "You need to rest." Then he smiled, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Tomorrow is just the two of us."

I smiled back warmly, following his lead. "Okay."

_~~ 0 ~~_

The next morning, I was in the kitchen making breakfast while listening to the radio. Sam and Emily were long gone, leaving Edward and I completely alone.

The sound of bare feet against the old wooden floor reached my ears, and I turned around just in time to see Edward shuffle his way into the small room. He had on gray flannel pajamas and was holding what looked like a very thick bathrobe.

"Good morning," he greeted; his voice rough from sleep as he slid on the bathrobe. "Brrrr. Is it just me or is it really cold?"

I had to laugh at his tormented expression. "Yeah, it can get a bit chilly in the morning here. I'm used to it. Maybe you should put on some socks."

"You're probably right," he said, glancing down at his bare feet and wiggling his toes. "When did you get up? I didn't feel you leaving the bed."

I returned my attention to the omelet I was making. "That's because you were so deeply asleep, I could have chopped wood on you and you wouldn't have felt a thing."

He chuckled, coming to stand behind me as he wrapped his arms around my waist. "Well, I have to admit I slept like a baby. I can't even remember the last time I enjoyed such a peaceful sleep."

"It's the fresh air. At some point, you started snoring so loudly, I _had_ to leave the bedroom. You practically forced me," I replied jokingly.

"Really?"

"Yep."

He leaned down to kiss my neck. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to keep you up. You should have woken me up; kicked me in the groin or something."

"I didn't have the heart to. You're too adorable when you snore. Annoying, yes, but adorable nonetheless."

He huffed, letting go of me and leaning with his back against the counter so that he was facing me. "There's nothing adorable about me. Are you trying to emasculate me?"

"A little," I teased.

The corners of his mouth lifted up into a smile as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Breakfast smells good."

"Mmhmm," I hummed in agreement, throwing the pan a fugitive look before concentrating on him. "How's your back this morning?"

He shrugged, but there was a slight change in his mood as his eyebrows formed a small frown. "Better than last night, I guess."

"That's good," I said, knowing that if I insisted on the subject too much, he was going to sulk for the rest of the day. "Will you go with me to the cemetery later?"

"Of course I will. You don't even have to ask."

I nodded, waiting for another minute before turning off the stove and placing the large omelet on a plate.

"Look what I found in the attic." I picked up a stack of photos lying on the table, handing it to him.

"Family pictures?" he inquired curiously, running his thumb over the first one.

"Really old ones. I'm going to take them home with me, buy a nice photo album for them."

"Who's this?" He pointed to the woman holding the hand of a little boy. The black and white picture had been taken in front of a toy store, and they were both smiling widely at the photographer.

"That's my gran," I replied, a sense of nostalgia gripping my chest. I remembered being much younger and looking at the same picture with her. "The little boy next to her is my dad. He must have been five or six at the time."

Edward nodded, moving on to the next one. "Is this from your parents' wedding?"

"Yeah. I had no idea I had left these behind. See how beautiful my mom looks?"

"I like the way your father looks at her," he noted. "His love for her is so visible."

I let out a soft sigh. "They really loved one another. My dad… he was just crazy about my mom. They would always kiss and hug even when I was around. As a teenager I used to think it was gross, but now… now I understand just how deeply their love for each other ran."

We were both quiet for a minute. Then I turned to look at him expectantly.

"I want us to have what they had. I want that kind of love that never fades away no matter how much time has passed."

"We can have that," he said soothingly, his voice so soft and full of promise that it made me want to believe him so badly.

"I really hope so," I replied, trying to find the right words to express what I felt. "It's not that I don't believe in our relationship, but… your family's been so hard on us. I love Jess and I think Alice and Jasper are really nice, but I'm so afraid that in the end they'll be the only ones to accept me as part of your life."

"Dad accepted you long time ago. I think he liked you from the very moment he met you."

"But what about Rosalie and Emmett and…" I paused for a second, "…most importantly, what about Esme?"

His brow furrowed. "What about them? Emmett has backed off, Rosalie is just being stubborn and Mom… she's sick." Then he rushed to add, "But she will get better, and when she does…"

He trailed off and I looked down at the picture he was holding once again. We both knew Esme's hate towards me wasn't because of her illness. She genuinely didn't like me. I didn't fit in to her pretentious world, which meant I wasn't worthy of Edward's attentions. Nothing I did was ever going to change that fact.

Edward shook his head as if trying to chase away bad thoughts. He took my hand and kissed my wrist, his eyes fluttering close for a fleeting moment. "I'm going to make you happy, Isabella. I promise you."

A smile tugged at my lips. He was being so sweet. "You already make me happy."

"Then I'll make sure you'll get your happily ever after. You deserve it. And I know I can be an asshole sometimes, but at least I'm an adorable asshole, aren't I?"

I chuckled, swatting at him playfully. "You sure are."

"Seriously now… I really want you to know that _you _are the most important thing in my life. You and our baby make my life worth living."

"I know," I said, touched by his little confession. "You and our Anthony are the most important people in my life, too. I can't see myself without either of you anymore."

Edward's face lit up. "Anthony, huh?"

"Yeah," I chuckled. "That's what I call him in my head. We really need to pick a name for him. Angela suggested Matthew as a first name. I really like Matthew."

"Matthew..." he murmured, trying it out. "Matthew Anthony…"

"Yeah." I nodded, enjoying how the names just rolled off his tongue and how pleasantly they resonated in my ear. "What do you think?"

"I like it," he stated simply.

"Really?" I wanted to make sure.

"Really." He smiled. "I like it a lot."

"Little Matthew Anthony..."

"…Cullen," Edward was quick to add before smiling sheepishly. "Don't forget Cullen."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Cullen, Swan, what does it matter?"

"It matters," he said, his smile fading. "I want my son to bear my last name. I want _you _to bear my last name."

I sighed, sensing an argument. "Edward… we already discussed this," I said softly, trying to placate him.

"I know. I'm just saying it would be nice for the three of us to be a family."

"Someday we will."

"Does that mean if I give you a ring right now you'll say yes?" he teased, and I was relieved he wasn't looking to make a big deal out of it. I needed a break from fighting with him.

"You don't have a ring," I teased back.

"Maybe I do." He grinned and it was so obvious he was bluffing.

"Give it to me then."

"Will you say yes?"

"Maybe."

He shook his head, his grin still in place. "It's not the right time. Besides, proposing is a big deal. I have to make reservations to a nice restaurant, buy flowers, get a new costume…"

At this I had to laugh. "Cliché much, Mr. Cullen? And here I thought you were actually more spontaneous. Don't tell me that is how you proposed to Tanya?"

"It isn't," he replied, not seeming upset that I had mentioned his marriage to Tanya. "I actually asked her to marry me on my birthday. I had a huge party involving a lot of alcohol. We obviously both got pretty wasted. At some point she dragged me outside the club hosting the party. We walked a block or two until we could find a dark alley, and you can imagine the rest. When it was over, I just blurted out the question. She laughed and slapped me but still said yes. She knew I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it, drunk or not."

"So you asked her to marry you on a back street while intoxicated?" I asked incredulously.

He chuckled at my expression. "Yeah. Surprised?"

"Actually yes. It doesn't sound like you."

"We were both young and a bit wild. We were living life to the fullest. I bought her the ring the very next day."

"Wow," I said, astonished by the unexpected divulgence of information. "I'm guessing your mother doesn't know about this story."

"No, she doesn't. She didn't even know about the party or she would have freaked out. Emmett was the one to organize everything. He used to be pretty good at hosting parties in his college years."

I gave him a suspicious look. "Emmett as in your big brother Emmett?"

"Yes, that Emmett. He's got a wild side to him too," he said, amused by my reaction. "But enough of that. Just know that one day I might surprise you as well."

"Okay…" I replied hesitantly. "Just please don't do it in a darkened alley. It's creepy."

"I already have a plan," he said, winking conspiratorially, and I wondered what he meant by that.

_~~ 0 ~~_

Minutes before stopping at the cemetery, Edward detoured to the only flower shop in town. We purchased two gorgeous white rose floral arrangements along with a couple of cemetery candles, before finally parking the rental car down an alley across from our destination. I got out of the car, careful not to drop the flowers in my arms, and Edward quickly rounded the car, rushing to help me carry them.

"Let me," he said, taking them from my arms.

"Thanks," I murmured absentmindedly, my eyes already trained on the massive iron gates across the deserted street.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern laced in his voice.

I sighed. "I don't know. It's been so long since I was here last. I'm nervous and emotional and…"

I trailed off, and he placed his free hand against the small of my back soothingly. "It's alright. We don't have to go in right now. We can stay in the car a while longer."

"No," I shook my head adamantly, "I want to go in."

"Okay," he complied. "Just let me grab the bottle of water."

He went back to the car to retrieve it, and when he returned we started walking side by side at an unhurried pace. It was an unusually warm afternoon for Forks, the light breeze caressing my skin underneath the green summer dress. Edward reached up to run a hand through his hair, and I watched his profile for a moment before turning my attention to the daunting gates we were coming closer to with each step we took.

I was going to start crying before we even reached the grave. I could just feel the familiar sting in my eyes and the overwhelming wave of emotion that was starting to take over. My heart started beating faster and faster, and by the time we stepped inside, I felt like I was going to hyperventilate.

Edward stood, waiting for me to lead the way. I looked around disoriented, trying to figure out which way to go. It wasn't that I didn't know where my parents were buried, but I was so overcome by emotion I could barely even remember my own name.

A tear slid down my cheek and then another. Edward noticed and opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a deep voice coming from behind me.

"Can I help you?"

Edward frowned, his gaze now trained on the person speaking, and I turned around to see and older man wearing rubber boots and navy blue coveralls. He was also holding a dirty shovel, and I realized he must have been the cemetery's gravedigger.

Before any of us could say anything, he raised his hat to get a better look at me and smiled. "I know you. You're the Swans' daughter."

"Yeah," I replied softly, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand. "I'm sorry but I don't think I know _you_."

He chuckled. "It's alright, very few people notice me. But hey, who can blame them? Most people who come here are grieving, so they tend not to pay much attention to the old man lurking around."

I nodded, not knowing what else to say. Edward was quiet beside me.

"So," the man said after a small pause, his kind eyes never leaving my face. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I can't exactly remember my way through the cemetery," I replied, ashamed to admit it. "I haven't been here since the funeral."

"No worries," he said, not seeming fazed by my confession. "I'll take you there."

"Thank you," I murmured, following as he led us through the silent headstones. "Do you know where everyone is buried?"

He chuckled once again, throwing me a roguish smile over his shoulder. "Pretty much, yeah. I've been working here since I was nineteen. I know this cemetery like the back of my hand."

I tried to imagine what it would be like to be around dead people all the time, and shuddered. "I don't mean to be rude or anything, but isn't this job a bit depressing?"

He shook his head, throwing the dirty shovel over his shoulder. "I used to think so too when I was your age, but I got used to it. Now I've actually come to appreciate the silence. Sometimes I come here to read when I have nothing else to do. It's peaceful. "

I smiled at his moving frame. This man seemed to have it all figured out. He seemed genuinely happy with his modest life.

Moments later, he stopped in front of a familiar black granite headstone. The same headstone I had picked out all those years ago. A vase of fresh lilies sat next to it, and I suspected it was Emily's doing. The grave looked well-kept, and I felt a pang of guilt because I had nothing to do with it.

"Here we are," the man said, gesturing in that direction.

"Thank you," Edward replied as I was already starting to zone out, my eyes trained on my parents' grave.

"I'll be nearby if you need me," I heard the man say before he departed at a leisurely pace.

I let out a quivering breath, reaching out to grab the flowers from Edward. The stone was shaped as a heart pierced in the middle by a white cross. On top of the cross said _Swan_ while on each half of the granite heart were written my parents' names along with their birth and death years. The inscription _loving husband and father_ adorning Dad's half of the gravestone had me breaking down, and I dropped to my knees on the grass, letting the tears fall freely.

The flower arrangements slipped from my hands, but I couldn't bring myself to pick them up. It felt as if a weight was pressing down on my chest, making it almost impossible for me to breathe. I brought my palm to my chest and rubbed in a feeble attempt to make the disturbing feeling go away. My head started pounding, and I shut my eyes tightly, needing to get a grip on myself.

I missed them so much it hurt deep within my heart and soul. Even though I had accepted my loss long ago, the grief was still there. It had subsided in the years following their death, but was still dwelling in a dark corner of my subconscious, mocking me, reminding me that I was an orphan.

There wasn't a single day I didn't think of them or wish I could go back in time and change their unjust fate. They had been so young and full of life... so happy.

God, I wanted them to meet Edward... to be there beside me when I got married... to welcome their first grandchild into the world...

"I miss you guys," I let out a choked whisper, opening my eyes and running my hand over the polished granite. "I wish you could meet our little Anthony."

Edward knelt down beside me, his hand going straight to my baby bump. "They would have been so happy for us," he whispered in my ear.

"I know." I nodded, wiping my cheeks.

"And I'm sure that wherever they are now, they're smiling down on us because they're so proud of their daughter and the amazing woman she's become."

I squeezed his hand. "I'm so grateful I have you now. You make me feel like I'm not alone in the world anymore."

"You'll always have me. No matter what, I'll always be there for you when you need me. I know I can't fill the void they left, but I'll try my best to give you the happiness you deserve," he promised, and there was solemnity to his voice.

"You already make me happier than I've ever been. I may not have my parents anymore, but I have you. You're my family now, Edward."

He kissed my temple, his hot lips lingering on my skin. "I'm glad you think so."

"My mom would have loved you," I said after a moment, a smile tugging at my lips.

"What about Chief?" he teased.

"Him too. After he made sure you were properly introduced to his shotgun, of course."

Edward let out a short laugh. "Of course. I think I like him already."

We sat there in silence for a while longer. At some point Edward decided to give me some space and got up for a little walk, while I quietly cried the grief out of my system. By the time he was back, I had lit the candles and carefully placed the flowers on the grave.

"Here." He offered me the bottle of water. "I thought you might need it."

My throat felt parched, and I took it from him gratefully. "You're always so thoughtful."

He smiled in return, and I brought the bottle to my lips, taking a large gulp.

"Are you ready to go yet?" he inquired, leaning down to brush off some grass from my dress. "If you're not, we can stay as long as you want. There's no pressure."

"No, we can go," I said, glancing over my shoulder at the silent grave.

"We'll come back," he assured me. "In fact, we can come to Forks as often as you want and my schedule allows. But in case I can't accompany you, you can take Angela. I bet she won't refuse the opportunity to see her family."

"Yeah. She hasn't been home for as long as I have. Now I feel bad I haven't asked her to come. I didn't even tell her I was going to Forks."

Edward tucked a strand of hair behind my ear lovingly. His small touches sent a wave of calmness through my entire body. "We had other things on our minds."

"Yeah," I agreed, taking a step towards him and wrapping my arms around his neck. "Thank you for coming. I really appreciate it."

He shook his head, pulling me closer. "And you _really_ should stop thanking me so much."

"I can't." I smiled sheepishly. "You're so good to me."

"Get used to it." He smiled back, kissing my lips softly.

As we neared the iron gates, I noticed the man from earlier was sitting on a bench, taking a long drag from his cigarette. His shovel was now gone, and he looked almost pensive as he glanced up at the sky.

He saw us and waved, the corners of his mouth turning up in a lazy smile. "Have a good day."

"You too," I replied. I kind of liked him. He had this fatherly aura about him that I actually found comforting.

Edward stared his way for a moment, his brow furrowed. He hesitated before walking in his direction. I wondered what he was doing, but remained silent, watching as he neared the seated man. He pulled out his wallet and said something to the man, handing him a couple of bills. The man nodded his head, then saluted as Edward turned back around.

"What was that?" I asked confused as we exited the cemetery.

"I just made sure the grave will always have fresh flowers," he replied nonchalantly. "Well, at least for a few weeks."

I sighed and opened my mouth to speak, but he cut me off quickly. "Yes, yes, you want to thank me. Don't. It was my pleasure."

I chuckled, shaking my head as he opened the passenger door for me. "Nonetheless... thank you."

He chuckled back, giving my cheek a warm kiss. "Get in, you annoying woman."

On our way home, we decided to stop by the local diner. I was craving steak and Edward was feeling thirsty, so we found an empty booth and slid in, a few familiar people greeting me as they passed us.

I didn't recognize our waitress, but she was young, probably a high school junior. She jotted down our order, popping her bright blue bubble gum every few seconds. While I found her demeanor quite funny, Edward didn't. He kept frowning at her, but the girl was oblivious to his unfriendly stare.

"Can you believe that?" he asked as soon as she was out of earshot.

"She's a teenager," I brushed off his comment.

"A teenager with no manners," he muttered, toying with his napkin.

"Shocking," I mocked.

"Bella Swan, is that you?" a voice said, and we both looked up to see Mike Newton stand next to our booth with a look of pure excitement on his face.

"Michael, hi," I replied, feeling my cheeks warm up at the unexpected encounter.

"What happened to Mike?" he scolded playfully. "Wow, I haven't seen you in a long time."

"Yeah." I smiled tentatively and could feel Edward's eyes on me.

Mike looked almost the same as I remembered. He was of average height with shaggy blond hair and intense blue eyes. He had grown a bit of a beard, but other than that, he was still that boy I had left at the airport a long time ago.

"And who's this?" he inquired, glancing at Edward.

"This is Edward, my… uh… my fiancé," I said, and could have slapped myself for being such a babbling idiot.

Mike's eyebrows almost hit his hairline as he stared at Edward perplexedly. "Fiancé, huh? Wow. I'm Mike Newton, Bella's… ex, you could say. We used to be high school sweethearts." He thrust his hand at Edward, his smile seeming to hide some great secret.

"Really?" Edward shook his hand slowly, his tone indicating that his interest was piqued. "That's interesting."

"Yeah. Man, you look great." Mike redirected his attention to me, his eyes roaming over my face and upper body appreciatively. "I knew I shouldn't have let you go all those years ago." Then he chuckled and glanced over at Edward. "No offense, man. I'm just kidding."

Edward smiled, but it was forced. He certainly wasn't amused.

"Hey, do you guys mind if I sit for a moment?"

"Yes," I rushed to say just as Edward said 'No'.

I looked at him, not understanding what his game was, but he just gestured to the opposite seat. "Please."

"Thanks." Mike sat down, calling to the young waitress to bring him a beer. She brought his beer and our drinks before quickly taking off to another table.

"So, _Mike_, what is it that you do?" Edward asked, drumming his fingers on the table.

He took a sip of his beer before answering. "I own the small grocery shop down the road and the only gas station in town, so I guess you could say I'm an entrepreneur. You?"

Edward sat up straighter, and I got the distinct feeling this was about to become a pissing match. "I'm a real estate attorney and an investor in several businesses throughout Chicago."

Mike let out a low whistle. "Making the big bucks, huh? You drive a Mercedes or something?"

"A BMW actually," he said matter-of-factly.

"Huh." Mike glanced over at me, seeming a bit deflated by this new piece of information.

"High school sweethearts, you say?" Edward inquired slyly, bringing the subject back to where he wanted.

"Yeah. We used to make such a good team; didn't we, Bells?" Mike beamed proudly.

"Maybe for while. But it didn't work out in the end," I said, not liking where the conversation was going.

"She used to be so good at English," he went on. "Remember when Mrs. O'Connor almost failed me and the only reason she didn't was because you begged her to let me take the test again?"

I nodded, starting to feel really uncomfortable. I didn't want to discuss my past with Mike in front of Edward. "Yeah."

"Mrs. O'Connor loved you. All the teachers did."

"How long were you together?" Edward fished for info, his voice taking a lower tonality.

"A couple of years, I think," he answered, grinning.

"Why did you break up?"

Mike shrugged. "Bella left for Chicago, and we both agreed it was better that way."

It was time I did something before the conversation became even more embarrassing. "So, how have you been, Mike?" I asked, faking curiosity. "Do you have someone special?"

He took another sip from his beer, giving me a rueful smile. "I actually do. Her name's Cassie. We've been seeing each other for a few months."

"I hope it works out," I commented sincerely, absently stirring my decaf cappuccino.

"We'll see," he said indifferently, his blue irises lingering on my face a bit too long.

"How are your parents?"

"They're okay. Dad had a heart attack last year, but he's recovered pretty well. He's quit smoking and you know... leads a healthier life style."

"I'm glad to hear he's feeling better," I replied, giving him a small smile. His parents had always been so nice to me.

He nodded, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah." Pausing to quickly check his phone, he then asked, "I can see life in Chicago is treating you well, but tell me more. What is it that you do?"

I stalled, not quite sure how to answer the question because at that moment I wasn't exactly doing anything. "Well, I'll be starting my Master's classes in the fall. I used to work at my aunt Kate's book store but recently quit."

His eyebrows rose questioningly. "Oh? Did you get a better paying job or something?"

"No," Edward interfered with a chuckle. "I just wanted to take care of her, that's all. That way she can focus on school and our family."

Mike gave Edward a suspicious look. "Family? I don't understand. You're not married."

"Not yet." Edward smirked cockily, and I wanted to wipe it off his face with a slap. He could be an arrogant prick when he wanted.

Mike smirked back, his next words coming off almost as a challenge. "Careful with this one, Edward. She might change her mind at the last moment. She's slippery like that."

I stared at him in shock, not getting where this was coming from. I mean, yeah, I had been the one to break it off with him, but it's not like he'd put up too much of a fight when I let him know of my decision.

"I'll keep that in mind," Edward stated calmly, not seeming affected by his words.

Mike nodded, bringing his beer to his lips once again. "So, Edward, how are you finding Forks so far? It's kind of boring, isn't it?"

"It's quiet. I like it. It makes for a nice change. We both needed the rest, especially Isabella since she's _pregnant_." He made sure to emphasize the last word, and Mike's head snapped in my direction, his eyes trying to burn holes through the metallic table.

"Are you shitting me?" He looked just as bewildered as he sounded.

"Uh... no."

"You're actually pregnant," he uttered, shaking his head. "Wow. I mean... wow. Congrats, I guess."

"Thank you." Edward beamed, having achieved his purpose. "We're very happy."

"Yeah," Mike breathed; his brow furrowing as he glanced up at me. There was something unsettling about his reaction, like he actually regretted that I had found happiness with someone other than him.

After that, he only stuck around for a few more minutes before saying he had to meet up with Cassie.

"So, I guess I'll see you, Bells?" he said, reaching for his wallet, and I nodded, giving him a half smile. "Good luck with the pregnancy. Edward, nice to meet you."

"You too."

"Thanks," I murmured, watching as he got up and walked out of the old diner at an unhurried pace.

I sighed, staring at his barely touched beer.

_That was awkward,_ I thought to myself. We used to fight a lot when we were together, and even though he had sometimes been an asshole to me, I knew he wasn't a bad person. I only hoped that one day he was going to find true love just as I had.

Edward probably mistook my silence for nostalgia, because when I glanced up at him, I found him frowning at me.

"What?" I asked, bringing the cappuccino to my lips and taking a sip.

"You slept with him," he said, and it wasn't a question.

"Edward..." I sighed.

"I'm not jealous..." he trailed off abruptly, his jaw clenching. "Okay, maybe I am."

"You knew about Mike." I tried to sound calm although on the inside I was feeling a bit annoyed.

"I know, I know, I just can't help it. It bothers me."

"What exactly bothers you? Would you have preferred that I was a virgin when I met you?" My voice was sharper than I intended.

"No... I mean, I don't know. I just... I hate thinking about other men touching you." He was stammering which was a clear sign of nervousness. He knew he was being unreasonable.

"Well, I'm sorry to break it to you, but there were two other men before you. Deal with it," I snapped, now glaring at him.

Okay, maybe I shouldn't have said it like that, but my hormones were getting the best of me.

His eyes darkened the instant the last word slipped from my mouth. He angled his body towards me, the hand that was resting on the table clenching into a fist. Now _he _was getting angry. "No, I won't deal with it. I have the right to be jealous, damn it."

"Then be jealous all you like," I hissed, turning my head away from him and towards the window.

I could hear his heavy breath as he remained quiet for a minute, probably trying to get a grip on himself. Then I felt it on my neck as he leaned to whisper in my ear. "I'm jealous as hell. I wanted to punch him in the face the moment he sat down with us. I can't stand to know that he has seen you as only I should. But please don't take it the wrong way. I don't blame you in any way. Heck, I know I've been with other women, so I shouldn't be the one talking. But I can't help how I feel. And I only feel this strongly because I love you so fucking much."

His words sent shivers down my spine, and I glanced at him sideways. It was insane how one minute he could make me mad as hell and the next he would say something to make me melt and forget why I was being angry in the first place.

"You're a jerk," I said, half-heartedly.

He smiled. "But this jerk loves you."

I sighed, turning around in my seat to face him. "And I love you too, although sometimes you don't deserve it."

"Let's not fight anymore," he whispered, leaning in to kiss my neck seductively.

"You started it," I breathed, my eyes closing on their own accord as the short hairs on my arms stood up.

"Yes I did," he murmured, caressing my hair as his lips moved from my neck to my left cheek. Then he looked at me, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "I have an idea."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Sometime later we found ourselves lying on our backs on an old quilt I had found in the attic, surrounded by woods and wilderness. Edward had insisted that we needed to have a picnic while we were in Forks, and after a bit of protesting on my part, I had begrudgingly agreed. Since we had already eaten at the diner, we only packed up some fruit, crackers, peach juice and a non-alcoholic beer for Edward.

"I'm not so sure I like your idea," I complained, swatting at a really annoying bee.

Edward sighed. "You grew up here. Are you saying you don't like it out in nature?"

I frowned up at the clear sky. "That's not what I'm saying. I just... I don't know... I'm cranky, I guess."

He laughed, rolling on his side, his palm resting on my baby bump. "You're always cranky nowadays."

I peeked at him from under my lashes. "Always?"

"Weeell..." he trailed off playfully. "Maybe just 99.9 percent of the time."

"Ha-ha," I replied dryly. "You're so not funny."

"Say that again?" he said, his hand inching up my ribcage and towards my armpit. He tickled me there, and I barked out a loud laugh, struggling to get away.

"Let go!" I laughed. "Edward, let go!"

"I don't think so," he breathed, shutting me up with a long kiss and making me melt against him almost instantly.

"Oh," I exhaled when he broke the kiss, my eyes closed. "That was nice."

"Really?" he asked in a very self-satisfied tone, and I glanced up at him to see him smirking down at me. The sun was shining over his head, basking his angular features in a strong, almost blinding light.

"Yeah." I smiled, letting my eyes flutter closed once more. "Do it again."

"Are you ordering me around, woman?" he joked, going back to tickling me.

I laughed, swatting his hands away. "Get used to it. That's what wives do."

"Hmmm. I like how that sounds," he said, and I could hear the wolfish grin in his voice. One of his hands slid up my thigh, riding up my dress in its ascent.

"This area is off limits," I said, placing my hand atop his on my lace panties.

"Why?" he asked, undeterred in his task of slipping his fingers inside.

I looked up to see that his green eyes were already hooded with lust. The sight was enough to put me in the mood.

"Edward," I protested weakly, biting on my lip when his middle finger started rubbing lazy circles around my clit. "Someone could see us."

"No," he breathed, leaning down to kiss the side of my neck languidly. "No one will see us."

My legs parted on their own accord as my arms wrapped around his neck like ivy. I wanted this as much as he, but my consciousness was telling me we needed to be careful.

I could only debate what to do for a split second before deciding to just let myself get carried away.

_To hell with being vigilant_, I told myself. For once in my life, I felt like throwing caution out the window and just act on impulse. Spontaneity was what great memories were made of. I needed this moment with him.

"I love you," he murmured, removing one of my straps so he could kiss his way down my shoulder.

"Love you back," I replied softly, running my fingers through his hair. "I'm so glad we have some time just for ourselves. We both needed it."

"Yes," he said distractedly, going on with his mouth's descent until it reached my cleavage. "Have I ever told you how good this dress looks on you?"

"No." I smiled sheepishly.

"You're beautiful."

My smile turned into a grin as I stared up at the sky. His words and what his fingers were doing to me down below was enough to send me into some sort of lust high. His mouth turned feverish as he left a hot trail of wet kisses along the green piece of fabric concealing my breasts from view.

"Oh," I exhaled when he pushed down said fabric, revealing the sheer bra I was wearing. He bit the nipple gently, and I had to rein in the urge to moan loudly.

"Mmmm," he hummed appreciatively grabbing hold of my breast and squeezing lightly, all the while his other hand still exploring southern regions.

He went on with his ministrations for a while, and I had to bite on my lip a couple of times to refrain from making too much noise. Getting me worked up didn't take much these days, and he knew it all too well. Judging by the cocky smirk he flashed me as he glanced up at me, he was enjoying this a little too much.

"A little to the right," I breathed throatily, grabbing hold of his shoulders and pawing at his clothed skin in an feeble attempt to maintain some sort of control over my own body. I was so close in such a short time that I knew what was coming was going to be_ so_ good.

"Here?" he asked, looking up at me through hooded eyes.

"Yes!" I hissed in pleasure when he began hitting a certain sweet spot. "Oh, yeah. Do that again."

He did it again and again and again, until I began convulsing around him. He held me down with his body, his skilled fingers never haltering their pace, and soon I was falling over the edge. I let out a guttural groan just as the familiar surge of heat enveloped my groin, followed by the anticipated orgasm.

I could barely come down from my high before he was ripping open his pants, his expression making him look almost desperate to have me. He might have had a hold over me just moments prior, but roles were about to switch.

"That was so sexy," he moaned, making quick work of pushing down his pants and boxer briefs. "I need to have you right now."

I reached between us to rub and fondle his shaft in preparation. "I'm not stopping you. We could get caught, but I can't bring myself to give a damn anymore."

At this point, we were both pretty far gone to care that we were practically in the middle of an open field. People could pass by and catch us in the act anytime. If I was being honest, it was kind of exciting knowing that anyone could show up at any time. The meadow wasn't that exposed, but I knew it was the usual gathering place for local high school kids. If they happened to stumble upon us, we were screwed.

"Thank God," he murmured, placing his hand atop mine and moving both at a slower more languid pace.

Soon, he was divesting me from my panties which ended up lying somewhere in the tall grass. He probed me once more with his fingers before moving in until just the tip was inside. He stroked my hair, staring into my eyes with pure adoration.

"Please don't stop," I moaned, already feeling like my groin was on fire.

I was so wet it only took a single swift thrust before he was completely immersed in. We both let out sounds of pleasure, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, needing to get him as deep as humanly possible.

He sighed contently, starting to move at an unhurried pace. "I missed you these past few days."

It had been exactly three days since we'd last had sex. It may not have been much, but to him it must have seemed like an eternity. Since finding out I was pregnant, he had been spoiled rotten. We'd have sex daily, sometimes even multiple times a day. But his back pain had gotten worse as the week wore on and we hadn't been able to get physical.

"Let's just take it slow," I said, although I kind of wanted him to be a bit rough. I liked it when he was being dominant and in charge. "I don't want you hurting yourself."

"I'm fine," he retorted with a slight frown. "Let me enjoy this."

I smiled conciliatory, moving against him. "Okay."

He leaned over to leisurely drag his lips against mine before his tongue slipped inside. I moaned, loving how soft his lips were and just how right his tongue felt wrapped around mine. Never in my life had I felt such sexual chemistry with a man. We knew what the other liked and we were perfect for each other. I only hoped that this compatibility of ours wasn't going to fade out over time.

He placed a hand under my waist, lifting me slightly so he could hit the spot he wanted, although careful not to put too much of his weigh on my baby bump. I hissed, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as he hit that spot over and over again. It felt so good, it almost made me delirious. I wanted more; I needed more.

"Edward," I mewled, loving the new angle. "Oh, right there."

"God, you're so tight," he whispered seductively, his hips increasing their pace with each thrust. "You feel amazing."

"You too," I murmured distracted by the sensations his thrusts elicited from my body. I ran my palms all over his back, feeling the crisp material and wishing for more skin-to-skin contact.

He kissed my collarbone, my neck, my cheek, my lips, his pace relentless. His moans and whispers served to arouse me even more than I already was. Then his strokes became shallower as he searched to build up my release. My whimpers became needier as I clutched at his shirt desperately. I was close again, my previous orgasm having nothing on this one. It was going to be intense; I could feel it in my every fiber.

Edward felt it too because he started to drive in deeper, causing my back to arch and my mouth to open. His moves became faster and harder, and I couldn't take it anymore. My walls began to constrict around him and I climaxed, my teeth digging into my lower lip forcefully as pleasure surged through me.

I expected him to slow down his movements after that, but instead he kept pushing into me with the same intensity. I worried he was going to strain his back, but kept my mouth shut not wanting to ruin the moment for him. I stroked his hair lovingly, and he buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath getting heavier with each hard thrust.

I kissed and ran my tongue over his earlobe and that was all it took for him to reach his own release. I held him as he came with a strangled cry, his hips now moving against mine spastically.

"Shit," he cursed, rolling off of me instantly.

"Edward, what is it?" I asked panicked, watching as his expression contorted into one of pain.

"My back," he strained. "It hurts so fucking bad."

I sat up and straightened my dress, the earlier state of euphoria quickly replaced by worry. "We should call your doctor."

Edward shook his head, clutching at his back. "You heard him; he said he'll be out of the country for a while."

"He said he's leaving next week. I'm calling him," I replied adamantly, already reaching for my phone.

He looked at me then, and for the first time since finding out about the extent of his injury, I could tell just how afraid he was. It made me want to cry because to be honest, I didn't know what else to do. I was helpless when it came to helping him and that made me incredibly sad and extremely scared.

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><p><strong>AN** **I don't know when I'll have the next chapter done. Free time is scarce right now, but I'll try my best to finish this story in reasonable time. It's my baby and I have missed you guys a lot :)**

**As usual, thanks for reading!**

**~Andreea~**


	32. Chapter 31: Edgy

**A/N Happy reading!**

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><p>Chapter 31<p>

Edward POV

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><p><em>~ August 28th, 2012 ~<em>

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_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

A petite nurse rounded the corner, her lips curving up in an encouraging smile when she saw me. "We're ready for you, Mr. Cullen."

I got up from my seat reluctantly, and Isabella did the same, reaching over to squeeze my hand comfortingly. "Everything's going to be alright. I promise. You'll do great."

"I love you." I sighed, kissing her lips softly. My free hand came to rest on her baby bump. "You too, little man. Be good for Mommy."

"We love you too, Daddy," she whispered, the tremor in her voice betraying her panic.

"Please take care of her," I addressed Alice who was sitting just a couple of feet away, watching our interaction. "Distract her. Make her forget I'm in there."

She smiled. "Will do. Don't worry; she'll be fine. You take care of yourself. Be strong."

I nodded, letting go of Isabella's hand and turning around to the waiting nurse. She motioned for me to follow after her, and I did, not daring to look back. They were all there: my father, my two brothers and their significant others and my pregnant fiancée.

We walked through a narrow hallway, bypassing medical staff and recovering patients at each step. We took a left turn and then another until we finally reached room D125. The nurse opened the door, gesturing for me to step in first.

"I'm going to ask you to change out of your street clothes," she said, her tone all business like, placing a neatly folded hospital gown onto the bed. "Underwear goes off too. Also, I'll need you to remove your watch, wallet and any other personal items like jewelry and contact lenses, if you're wearing any. Everything goes to this bag here, which will be handed to your wife. This will be your room for the remaining of your stay."

"Okay," I replied, toying nervously with one of my shirt's buttons. I could barely get out monosyllabic answers, let alone correct her statement about Isabella being my wife.

She must have sensed my distress because she cocked her head slightly to the right, her expression softening. "Don't worry, you'll be just fine."

All I could do was nod. She took a step towards the door, pausing to add one last thing.

"The anesthesiologist will be with you soon to perform a brief physical examination."

With that, she exited the room, leaving me alone to change. I started taking off my shirt, my heart beating a crazy rhythm inside my chest.

Last Saturday in Forks flashed through my mind...

...the pain...

...the panic...

...the call to Dr. Moore...

...the ER check-in at the UW Medical Center...

...the flight back to Chicago...

...the last minute appointment with Dr. Moore...

...and now this.

For the first time in my entire life, I was about to undergo surgery. The thoughts plaguing my mind were getting darker and more pessimistic with each passing second.

It wasn't that I didn't believe in the good doctor, because he was one of the best surgeons out there. Jasper himself had vouched for him, and I trusted my little brother more than anyone when it came to medical issues. But experience had taught me that life was not only ephemeral but extremely unpredictable. Everything I had achieved until that moment could crumble down in a second. And I knew my condition must have been deteriorating at an alarming pace for Dr. Moore to postpone his trip to Europe. The man had just cancelled his vacation for me, for Christ's sake!

I hated not knowing what the outcome would be. I despised feeling like I had no control over what was about to happen. I had only felt this way once before, and it had not ended well for me.

Add this to my newly developed phobia of sickness and death, and I was in for a rough few days.

To be completely honest, I was a mess both inside and out. Last night had been horribly restless. I hadn't been able to close an eye, the constant feeling of nausea assaulting my stomach keeping me awake and making me miserable.

The fact that I dreaded hospitals didn't help at all. I was used to them more than I cared to admit, although I hadn't personally needed one for more than a mere sprain since tenth grade. Tanya's fatal illness had me spending most of my time, be it day or night, in this same hospital for the best part of 2010. I hated the smell of disease and disinfectant lingering in the air. I hated the sickness surrounding me and the memories it evoked.

I just wanted to go home, or anywhere else for that matter. In fact, all I wanted was to be as far away as possible from this horrendous place.

Just as I finished putting on the hideous gown, the door opened and a man in scrubs stepped in. He looked to be in his early forties, had copper-colored hair, much like mine, and a faint scar over his right eye.

"Mr. Cullen, my name is Doctor Nathaniel Clarke and I'll be your anesthesiologist. How are you feeling?"

I shrugged, choosing not to answer that question.

"I see." He chuckled. "I'm going to ask you a few questions then we'll head over to the pre-op holding area. Please, take a seat."

I sat down on the bed, and he pulled over a chair for himself so he could sit opposite of me. "First, I have to ask if you signed the informed consent form. Our clerk is quite new, and I want to make sure she followed the standard procedure."

"I did," I replied, watching as he jotted down my answer in the chart he was holding.

He nodded, not looking up. "Good. Did you refrain from eating or drinking for at least eight hours before surgery?"

"Yes."

"Did you ever receive general anesthesia before?"

"No."

"Are you suffering from any drug allergies?"

"Not that I know of."

"What medication have you been taking for the pain?"

_"Percocet."_

He shot off a few more questions before getting up, looking satisfied with my answers. "Everything seems fine here. Shall we?"

"What?" I said as if waking up from a trance. "Already?"

"You have nothing to be anxious about," he replied, gesturing to the door. "After you."

I let out a quivering breath, deciding to man up and get it over with. The sooner I lost consciousness, the better. I was too much of a nervous wreck for my own good.

Minutes later, as they started an IV in pre-op, I distracted myself by staring at the wall and thinking of Isabella. I imagined her pacing the waiting room, worried and anxious for news, and I hated myself for putting her in such distress. Pregnancy hadn't been easy on her, and the last thing she needed was to play Florence Nightingale for me. It made me feel like a burden. I should have been the one looking after her, not the other way around. At this point, I was pretty much a useless crippled old man, and she deserved better.

"All done," the anesthesiologist's voice cut through my reverie. I looked up in time to see him dispose of a syringe and reality came crashing down on me. This was it. Soon everything was going to be black.

I was handed a blue hair cap, which I put on.

"Let's get you to OR, Mr. Cullen."

I got up, following after him as the nurse helped me with my IV. As we stepped into the sterile room, it all started to look like a strange dream. There were too many people fussing about. The lights looming above the operating table were too bright, and I had to cover my eyes for a moment to let them adjust. Someone helped me up on the table, but I couldn't tell who it was. I was instructed to lie down on my front, and I did so obediently and a bit sluggishly.

"Good morning, Mr. Cullen," I heard the familiar voice of Dr. Moore. "How are we feeling this morning?"

"Like hell," I mumbled, glancing up at him, as he came to stand beside the table.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "There's no need to fret. You'll do just fine, I can guarantee it."

Yeah, everyone kept telling me that.

"How long will it take for me to regain consciousness after the surgery?" I asked, feeling like the more I spoke, the harder it was for me to get the words out.

"It's all up to you. Each person reacts differently to general anesthesia. It may be one hour or several."

I nodded, and he disappeared from sight. My whole body was slowly going numb. It was such a strange feeling.

"You're doing great," one of the nurses said softly. She kept speaking to me, but her voice started fading away.

I sighed, thinking that I wasn't supposed to have this operation for a couple more weeks. Dr. Moore had postponed his trip for me, and I couldn't have been more grateful, but that didn't mean I was prepared for this. I didn't think I was ever going to be, no matter the timing.

A couple more weeks would have been nice...

A couple more weeks of peace and tranquility...

...and worry...

...and pain...

...an-

_~~ 0 ~~_

...Someone was speaking... a woman...

Isabella?

...no, it wasn't her voice...

Where was I?

I tried to open my eyes but couldn't.

Why was I so confused?

"...Bella," I mumbled, desperate for her. I needed her; where was she?

"...all right, Mr. Cullen... just try to rest... back to your room…"

_~~ 0 ~~_

When I finally regained full consciousness, the petite nurse was doing something with my IV.

She smiled brightly. "Welcome back, Mr. Cullen."

I swallowed thickly, my throat parched. "How did it go?"

"The surgery went great. Dr. Moore is very pleased with the result. You're one step closer to making a full recovery."

I licked my lips, feeling just how dry they were. I needed water badly. "Can I see my fiancée?"

"Sure. I'll let everyone know you're awake." She turned on her heels, making an exit.

Minutes later, the door opened and Isabella's head poked in. "Hey," she said quietly, her smile infectious.

"Hey." I held out my hand, needing her close.

She closed the door and quickly made her way to the bed where she sat, placing her hand in mine. Leaning over, she placed a soft kiss on my lips.

"How are you feeling, honey?" she asked, the endearment taking me by surprise.

"A bit dizzy," I admitted, kissing her wrist in return. "I missed you."

"No more than I missed you," she murmured, her eyes voicing what she couldn't... the worry... the stress... the relief. "I thought you were never getting out of surgery. The waiting felt like an eternity. But Dr. Moore said you did great, like I knew you would. Did he come by?"

"Not yet. Who's still here?"

"Um, your dad and Emmett. Jasper's seeing some of his patients; Alice left for work about an hour ago, and Rosalie had to take Jess to her dance classes."

I frowned. I had almost forgotten about Rosalie. "I hope she hasn't said anything to you."

Isabella shrugged. "No, she pretty much ignored me. I have to say I'm surprised she came in the first place."

She might've been surprised by Rosalie showing up at the hospital the day of my surgery, but I had actually expected it. I knew my sister-in-law all too well; she couldn't turn her back on family, no matter what harsh words we might have thrown at each other.

"I said it before and I'll say it again; she's not a bad person. We used to get along really well before..." I trailed off abruptly, realizing my stupidity.

Isabella chuckled bitterly. "...before _I_ came into your life."

"Well, yes. But she'll come around eventually; I'm certain. She's just hurt and maybe a little confused that she had to choose sides."

She shook her head, starting to look quite vexed. "No one forced her to choose a side, Edward."

"You have to understand that's what her conscience told her to do. She loves my mother too much for her own good."

We were about to start arguing about Rosalie, and that was the last thing I wanted, given the situation. Luckily for us, Dr. Moore decided to show up just then.

"Hello again," he said cheerfully as he stepped inside with his hands shoved into his coat's pockets.

"Hello, Doctor," Isabella replied in kind, getting up and smoothing down her long summer skirt. "Thank you for looking after him."

"My pleasure, my pleasure..." He smiled at her then turned to me. "You look great. How are you feeling?"

I was really starting to get tired of being asked the same question over and over again. "Aside from a bit of dizziness, I feel good."

"Great. We'll see how things go, and if you're still doing this good tomorrow, I might let you go."

I let out a sigh of relief. "You don't know how glad I am to hear that. I can't wait to get back home."

"I already spoke to your physical therapist and you'll be starting recovery sessions soon. Don't worry; you'll be in capable hands. Dorian is very good at what he does."

"Thank you, Doctor. I appreciate everything you did."

He nodded, already heading for the door. "Get some rest, and I'll see you later today."

"I can't imagine what it's like always being in a rush," Isabella commented as soon as he was gone.

"You get used to it in time," I said, admiring her from where she stood a few feet away. She looked so beautiful in a blue skirt paired with a white top. "Do you think I could have some water?"

"Oh, yeah, the nurse said I could give you water." She dug into her bag, procuring a small bottle and handing it over to me. "Here you go."

I took it gratefully, draining half of it in a single gulp. It was heavenly; best drink I'd ever had in my life. "What would I do without you, my Bella?"

"That's what I always ask myself," she joked, her eyes gleaming with mirth.

A knock on the door alerted us of another visitor before Emmett stepped in tentatively. "May I?"

"Sure," Isabella said, giving him her best smile. "Come on in."

I looked at her suspiciously. Since when did she smile at Emmett?

Emmett shifted his weight from one foot to another awkwardly. "The nurse said one person at a time, but I got a call from work and I have to leave soon."

"Oh." Isabella gathered her bag, starting for the door. "I'll go."

Emmett grabbed her elbow gently to prevent her from leaving. "No, there's no need for that. I just wanted to see how he's doing before I left. Please stay."

I gaped at their interaction in shock. What the hell had transpired between Isabella and my brother while I was out cold?

"Everything went better than I expected," I spoke, my eyes glued to Emmett's hand on Isabella. Was I dreaming? Was I still asleep?

He gave me a genuine smile, letting go of her arm. "I'm glad to hear that. You'll need to be in good shape to run after your little one. Small kids are tiring."

"Yeah," I said, still bewildered.

_I'll be damned_... he seemed quite taken with her all of a sudden. What in God's name had they been talking about? I made a mental note to ask her about it later.

"Man, I can't believe you're going to have a son," he went on. "I'm jealous. You get to play ball with him, go fishing, build a fort..."

I had to chuckle at that, despite my confusion towards his new attitude. "How many times have you built a fort for Jessica, Em?"

He grinned knowingly. "Many."

"And if I remember correctly, you even took her fishing a couple of times."

He waved me off dismissively. "But she won't play ball with me, man. And I can't watch sports with her either. I guess I'll just have to babysit my nephew from time to time."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Could this conversation get anymore peculiar?

"We decided to name him Matthew Anthony," Isabella chimed in, oblivious to my inquiring looks. "I just realized I forgot to tell you."

"Matthew Anthony Cullen," Emmett said slowly, stroking his chin with his thumb. "Well, that sounds about right."

"I'm glad you approve," I mumbled, watching him closely. Something was very different about his demeanor. He was being _friendly_. But why?

"I do. Anyway, I need to run. I'll talk to you later?"

I did my best to offer him a genuine smile. "Sure. Have a good day."

"Thanks." He grinned, leaning over and kissing Isabella on the cheek. "Bye, Bella. Take care of yourself."

"What the hell just happened?" I asked, completely bewildered, gesturing towards the door when it closed behind him with a loud click. "Am I starting to see things?"

Isabella laughed at my expression, shaking her head. "I don't know what's going on with him, but he's been awfully nice to me since this morning. We talked a lot. He kept me company the entire time." She sat down beside me on the bed once again, placing her bag on the floor. "He also told me that if I ever need help with anything, to give him a call. He's been really sweet, you know? It's like there's this hidden part of him I never knew existed."

I sighed. "I guess he's starting to see things differently. He's starting to_ think_ differently. He can be a jerk when he wants to, but he's my brother and I'd be lying to say I'm not glad to finally have his support."

She smiled, leaning in conspiratorially. "You know, I think he's just being a typical overprotective big brother. It's funny because you're as overprotective about Jasper as Emmett is about you."

I frowned at her. "I'm not overprotective," I said defensively. "You clearly must be imagining things."

"No, I'm not, and yes, you are. The only difference is that Jasper is a lot less hot-headed than you. He's much too calm to cause trouble."

"Are you calling me a troublemaker?" I asked, now amused.

"Well, not exactly, but even you have to admit you can sometimes be a real pain in the ass."

I huffed, astonished that she was actually defending Emmett and accusing me of being _difficult_. "You're lucky I can't take you over my knee and give you a good spanking for that comment."

She chuckled, her eyes turning devilish. "Mmmm, a spanking sounds... stimulating."

I groaned, shaking my head disapprovingly. "You can't say things like that to me right now. God knows when I'll be able to have sex with you again."

"I can be on top; you won't have to do a thing," she breathed, leaning in closer and closer until her lips brushed against mine softly.

"Baby..." I moaned, half frustrated, half aroused.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop." She pulled back, grinning. "It's fun messing with you, though."

"I'm glad you find my reactions amusing." I narrowed my eyes at her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her in for another kiss. "Come here."

_~~0~~_

I woke up in the middle of the night to the distinct feeling that someone was watching me. Looking around disoriented, I tried to locate the source of my discomfort.

There was nothing. The room was silent and almost completely dark, the only source of light coming from the slightly open window blinds.

I let out a sigh of relief, letting my head fall back into the stiff pillow. As I stared up at the ceiling, something moving in the corner caught my eye, and I jolted startled.

"Who's there?" I demanded, quickly reaching over to turn on the night lamp. A stab of pain hit my lower back as a result of the sudden movement, and I hissed; my eyes still trained on the moving form.

"Edward," a soft feminine voice said, just before my mother materialized from the dark at the foot of the bed.

"Mom?" I asked in disbelief, wondering if the damned general anesthesia was still fucking with my head. "Wha-... what are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," she replied, touching my left foot gently, the chill running from my toes to my brain, making me realize I was very much awake and alert.

I took her in. She was wearing clothes I had never seen on her before: dark flare dress pants and a plum blouse with ruffles made of questionable material. Her hair had been recently cut into a short bob, making her look significantly younger.

"But... you're... you're supposed to be at the clinic," I stammered, trying to comprehend what was happening. "Who brought you here?"

She smiled her brightest smile, rounding the bed and sitting down on it. She was so close, I could have touched her. "A friend and a wonderful person helped me get in undetected," she explained, avoiding giving me a straight answer. "They wanted to keep your surgery from me, but I found out. And now I came to see you. Aren't you happy that I'm here?"

"What friend are you talking about?" I asked, getting more alarmed with each passing second. "Mom, are you alright?"

"But of course I'm alright. I feel better than ever. Can't you tell?" She gestured to herself as if to prove her point.

"Mom..." I trailed off, the wheels in my head spinning rapidly. Whatever my next action was going to be, I needed to act promptly.

_What to do, what to do?_

"I should be mad at you for leaving me in that horrendous place," she scolded gently, her face still not showing any sign of distress. She smiled again, even more sweetly than before, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "But I'm not. How are you feeling, darling?"

"Let me call Dad," I replied carefully, reaching for my phone.

Her expression morphed from lively to livid in an instant. She suddenly looked murderous, and it scared the crap out of me.

"No!" she cried, snatching the phone, before I could reach it, and clutching it to her chest. "Please don't. He hates me; he wants to hurt me. That's why he locked me away in that mental facility. I'm not insane. Edward, you know I'm not. You're the only one who loves me; you have to help me."

"Okay, okay, let's calm down," I rushed to appease her, holding out my hand. "Hand me the phone; I won't call him."

"No." She shook her head adamantly, jumping to her feet. Her face held a determined look.

"Mom..." I pleaded, silently asking her to cooperate.

"I have to go," she said abruptly, turning to the door and preparing her exit.

"Mom, wait!" I called, panicked.

_Think, Edward, fucking think!_

She looked at me over her shoulder expectantly. "Will you help me?"

"Yeah, I will," I answered, not missing a beat.

I was lying, and she knew it all too well. I wanted to help her but not the way _she_ wanted to be helped. She knew I was going to call Dad as soon as I got the opportunity.

"You're lying," she stated, venom and disappointment laced in her voice. Gone was the sweet woman from earlier. With those last words hanging in the air, she stormed out the door, slamming it forcefully.

"Mom!" I yelled, desperate that I was unable to get up and run after her.

Turning to the nightstand, I grabbed the phone there, bringing the receiver to my ear. I was shocked when I got no dial tone. Upon closer inspection, I saw that the wire had been cut very close to the power outlet.

"Shit!" I cursed and furiously hit the nurse call button over and over again until a corpulent lady in pink scrubs rushed in.

She took me in, her face relaxing when she realized I wasn't in any immediate danger. "What happened?"

"Someone was here... my mother. She wasn't supposed to be here," I explained, aware of the fact that I wasn't making myself very clear.

She frowned, displeased, pointing to her watch. "Of course she wasn't; it's well after visiting hours."

"You don't understand..." I fisted my hair in frustration. "I have to call my father."

"Okay," she replied slowly, waiting for me to do just that.

I huffed, aggravated. "She took my phone and cut the wire to this one."

"Mr. Cullen, are you alright?" the nurse asked suspiciously, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Do I look like I'm alright?" I snapped, feeling my temper rise. "I need a phone now! It's urgent."

She finally sensed the seriousness in my voice, her black eyes widening at the realization that something must be really wrong for me to act like such a lunatic. Mumbling a short "be right back," she spun on her heels and took off in search of a phone.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I muttered, wishing it was all just a bad dream.

I barely had time to put my thoughts in order before the nurse was back with a hot pink Nokia; probably her personal cell. I took it gratefully, dialing the only number I knew by heart.

"Isabella," I spoke, relieved that she'd picked up and guilty that I had awakened her at such a late hour. "It's me."

_"Edward?" _Her confusion was audible even through the phone.

"Isabella, listen, I need you to call Alice. Tell her my mother was here at the hospital. I think she ran away from the clinic and someone helped her, but I don't know who. She said it was a friend."

She gasped_. "Oh, my God."_

"Call her now," I urged. "Tell her to alert everyone and then call me back on this number."

I ended the call and closed my eyes, a hundred different scenarios running through my mind.

"Are you alright?" the nurse asked tentatively. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

I looked at her and tried a smile which only came off as a grimace. "No, but thank you; it's personal. Although, I would appreciate it if I could keep the phone for a while longer."

"Sure." She nodded, starting for the door. "Buzz me if you need anything."

"I will," I promised.

A few minutes later, the hideous thing in my hand started ringing.

"Yes?" I replied, recognizing Isabella's number.

_"Edward, it's me. Jasper and your father are on their way to the hospital. Your father already knew."_

"How… Who told him?"

She sighed heavily. _"I have no idea. Do you want me to come over?"_

"No, there's no need," I assured her. "I'm not even sure they'll let Dad in at this hour. You get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow."

_"Okay. I love you."_

"Love you, too," I murmured, hitting the end button.

Twenty minutes later, Jasper entered the room, closely followed by my father.

"Hey," Jasper greeted somberly.

I exhaled, relieved to have them there. "Hey. How did you guys get in?"

Jasper rolled his eyes at me, grabbing a chair from the small desk at the other side of the room. "I work here, remember?"

Dad sat on the couch, looking absolutely desperate. "What happened? Just moments before hearing from Alice, I got a call from the clinic saying Esme had run away."

"She showed up here saying she's not crazy and I had to help her. I tried to call you, but she took my phone and cut the wire to that one. " I nodded my head in that direction.

"Dear Lord," my father breathed incredulously.

"Someone helped her," I went on, trying to remember what she said. "She mentioned something about a friend."

My father's brow furrowed. "A friend? No one except the family knew she was there."

"I know. Something felt off about the way she said it; like she wanted to protect said friend's identity."

"I spoke to her doctor; you know he's a friend of mine," Jasper cut in, looking wary.

"And?" I prompted.

"He's not sure what the _right_ diagnosis should be. Her symptoms match those of a person suffering from _narcissistic personality disorder: _a strong need for constant praise and admiration, the lack of empathy for others, trouble keeping healthy relationships, expecting others to go along with her ideas and plans, expressing disdain for those she feels are inferior, and the list could go on.

"But he feels there's more to her personality than she's letting on. She agreed to answer his questions, but was very evasive." He paused, looking like he was trying to choose his words carefully. "He thinks she's an extremely intelligent woman who knows how to manipulate any situation in her favor. To be honest with you, he actually sounded impressed, and dare I say, even a little excited at having to work with her."

"Great," I spat, getting more worked up with each word he spoke. It made me angry that I had been right. They had refused to listen to me, and now we were all paying the price.

Jasper saw my reaction and sighed, his voice taking a softer tonality. "Also, he planned on letting her go this week; we just never got the chance to tell her. He said he wanted to try out a new approach; meeting with her in the comfort of her own home. "

"Isn't she still a danger to herself?" Dad inquired, obviously having learned all of this just now.

Jasper shook his head. "He doesn't think she would truly harm herself. She's only trying to garner attention."

"How can you say that?" I said accusatorily. "Doesn't she mean anything to you?"

Anger flashed in his eyes. "Of course she means something to me. She's my mother too, for Christ's sake. But I'm not the one saying it; her _psychiatrist _is."

"Boys," Dad interfered gently, holding his hands up to stop an eventual fight. "What do we do? How do we find her?"

"I have no idea," Jasper murmured, running a hand through his overgrown hair. "Chicago is a big city; locating her is going to be difficult, if not impossible."

"That's assuming she's still in the city," I shot back insolently, and he threw me a dirty look.

Jesus... what the hell was I doing? I was on the verge of fighting with my younger brother, which I couldn't remember ever happening. I needed to calm the hell down before I said something stupid that I was later going to regret.

I took a deep breath in an attempt to get a grip on my temper. "We need to find out who's helping her."

"Yes, but how?" Dad asked, looking forlorn. He'd changed so much since the whole ordeal with my mother. He always looked so tired and beat down.

"We'll start by calling her closest friends."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Almost a week later, there was no news whatsoever regarding my mother's whereabouts. To say we were all frustrated,with the situation we found ourselves in, would be an understatement. No matter who we contacted, we couldn't get a lead on where or with whom she could be.

Emmett, being the ever practical man, took it upon himself to hire a private investigator. It might have seemed a little extreme, but it was the only logical thing to be done after the other failed attempts at finding her. Her condition was too delicate for us to just sit back and wait for her to decide it was time to return home. Given her now strained relationship with most of us, there was no guarantee she would ever want to come back in the first place.

All of us were upset with her running away, but Rosalie was having the hardest time. She couldn't cope with the fact that my mother had abandoned her just as easily as she had the rest of us. No goodbye note, no letter explaining her actions, no nothing. Maybe the real reason Rosalie was so devastated was the realization that Mother didn't love her remotely as much as Rosalie loved her. It was sad to see her so emotional about the whole thing, but maybe it was going to serve her as a reality check-up. My mother's number one priority was herself.

I, for one, was somewhere between resigned and angry. I was resigned because at the back of my mind, I had always known something like this was bound to happen for us to finally stick together and act as one. And I was angry because no one's given a flying fuck on my opinion when my opinion mattered. _Maybe _if we'd approached the situation differently, the outcome would have been a better one.

"Can I get you anything?" Isabella materialized in front of me wearing a green apron over her cut-offs and oversized t-shirt.

She was making lasagna, the smell of cooked meat, pasta and spices following her into the living room and reaching my nostrils. My lips parted, and I inhaled deeply, the aroma causing my stomach to rumble with hunger.

"A large plate of what you're currently making," I replied, eager for lunch.

She chuckled, squeezing between me and a decorative pillow on the couch. "Lunch won't be ready for another twenty minutes."

I sighed exaggeratedly,slowly angling my body towards hers and reaching behind her back to remove the apron. I tossed it to the floor, my hand sneaking under the oversized t-shirt to caress her baby bump. "How's my little Matthew?"

"Matthew, huh?" she grinned, pleased, running her palm up and down my upper arm.

"I like it," I said, returning the grin. The position was getting uncomfortable, and I shifted a little, trying to ease the tension gathering at the small of my back.

"More than Anthony?"

"Yes, more than Anthony," I admitted.

Her head cocked to the side as she looked at me under her lashes. "I don't know; I think I've gotten used to Anthony by now."

"We'll compromise," I offered.

"Okay."

"We'll call him Matthew."

She smacked me in the chest lightly. "Hey, that's not compromising!"

"It's not?" I feigned ignorance, too busy feeling her soft skin to care that I was sporting a shit-eating grin.

"No, it's not."

"What is it then?"

"It's you being a manipulative…" She stopped abruptly, her expression turning remorseful. She knew the appellative would remind me of my mother. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said that."

"It's okay," I assured, pulling my hand away and turning my attention back to the TV. My mood had suddenly turned sour.

"Any news yet?" she asked tentatively.

"No."

Isabella sighed next to me. "I don't like it when you get like this. You've been distant ever since Esme ran away from the clinic."

"I'm not distant; I'm upset," I said, giving her a sideways glance. "I feel useless sitting on this couch all day, unable to do anything to help find her."

"There's nothing more you could have done, Edward," she replied, getting a bit upset herself. "Even if you were able to run around the city all day long, where would you look for her? You won't find her unless she wants to be found. To be honest with you, I think sooner or later she'll come back on her own."

I chuckled humorlessly. "Why would she come back to a family she thinks is hell-bent on doing her harm? She's afraid of all of us; especially my father."

"Your father is a good man. He only did what he thought was best for her."

"I know, but locking her away was _not _the right thing to do. I told them, but they chose not to listen. Now she will never trust in any of us again. I don't think she's ever coming back. Not by her own free will anyway," I said, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of my stomach at the thought that she might never return. "I can't even begin to imagine how utterly alone she must feel."

"Edward…"

I fisted my hair with one hand, shaking my head in frustration. "I wonder who's helping her. She said it was a friend. I keep trying to figure out who it is but can't. None of her friends know anything about her whereabouts."

"Do you think it's someone you know?"

"I have no idea," I admitted, letting out a long breath. "I just wish she'd let us help her. I'm tired of family drama."

"I know exactly what you mean." She cupped my cheek, making me look her in the eye as her voice turned softer. "But hey, we're in this together. If there's anything I can do to help, will you let me know?"

"I will," I promised, turning my head to kiss her palm and wondering if I could ever love her any more than I already did.

She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her beautiful eyes. "When's Dorian coming over?"

Glancing at my watch, I saw it was half past noon. "He should be here any minute."

"Are you excited to be starting your recovery exercises?"

I nodded. "Yeah; I can't wait to get back on my feet."

"You're doing great so far." She pecked my lips once before getting up to head back to the kitchen. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you," I said, grabbing her wrist to stop her. "Baby?"

"Hmmm?"

"I have the contract ready."

The night before my surgery, she'd decided to sell the house in Forks; the task of writing the contract going to yours truly. Now, the lawyer in me wasn't exactly pleased with the sum they were willing to pay for it, but the other more empathetic side of me knew better. Sam and Emily were Isabella's friends. The house probably meant as much to them as it did to her. All Isabella cared was that her former home was being taken care of properly, and that was something I could respect.

Because of our rushed departure, she hadn't gotten a chance to give them an answer yet, and I got the distinct feeling she was subconsciously delaying doing it. My suspicions were confirmed when her eyes widened in surprise. She clearly hadn't expected that.

"So soon?" she asked meekly.

"I was getting bored these past few days and I thought I'd get it done. All you have to do is sign it and I'll have it sent to Forks."

She nodded, biting on her lower lip. She suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Okay."

"Baby, are you sure you want to do this?" I asked, not wanting her to later regret her decision.

"It's not my home anymore, Edward; it's theirs." She gestured around the living room. "_This_ is my home now."

"About that… I was thinking we should start looking for houses. The condo will become pretty crowded once the baby is born."

She shook her head, her lips curving upwards in amusement. "Your condo is anything but crowded."

"It's _our_ condo, and it might not seem like that now, but I'm pretty sure a house is much more suitable for raising a family. I'd like my son to have a spacious backyard to play in, just like I did. I'd also like for you to have a place where you can relax or study; maybe a gazebo. And I want a pool. I miss having a pool."

She chuckled, looking at me like I'd just told her a very good joke. "You are _so_ low maintenance."

"I have expensive taste, so what? I can more than afford it," I replied, aware of how vain that sounded.

"Yes, you can, Richie Rich," she teased, rolling her eyes at me. "And yeah, looking for houses is a good idea. It'll serve us as a welcome distraction for a little while."

The intercom buzzed, and Isabella started moving in that direction. "It must be Dorian."

Minutes later, she was ushering a tall African-American man into the living room. He looked young, maybe in his early thirties, wore jeans, a slim fit polo t-shirt and bright yellow glasses.

"Mr. Cullen," he said and extended his hand in greeting, his messenger bag swinging from his shoulder. "I'm Dorian Lewis."

I shook his hand, noticing his athletic figure. "Please, call me Edward."

"Edward." He smiled, pleased that our conversation was starting on a less formal tone. He seemed like a laid-back guy, and I liked that.

"It's very nice to meet you," I said, gesturing to an armchair. "You have excellent recommendations."

He sat down, placing his bag behind his back. "Dr. Moore and I have been working together for about five years now. He's one of Chicago's best surgeons."

"He is," I agreed. "Also my brother, Jasper Cullen, seems to have only good things to say about you."

"Jasper Cullen?" he asked, sounding surprised. "I didn't make the connection before now."

"Can I get you something to drink?" Isabella asked, picking up the apron I had tossed on the floor earlier. She blushed, throwing me a scolding look.

"No thank you, ma'am," he replied, amused by her reaction.

"You've met my fiancée, Isabella," I said, smiling at her apologetically.

"Call me Bella." She started for the door. "If you'll excuse me, I need to check on the lasagna. Please feel free to join us for lunch later."

"I'm afraid I can't. I have a little girl waiting for me at the hospital."

Isabella nodded in understanding before making her exit. Dorian turned to me, clasping his hands in his lap.

"I understand the car accident injury resulted in a herniated disk at L5-S1 in the lumbar spine. You had the protruding part of the disc shaved, plus a small amount of the surrounding bone to give its nerve's roots more room. You were taking _Percocet _before the surgery and now you're back on it. Is that correct?"

"Yes, that's correct," I said, taken aback by how detailed his information concerning my condition was. No wonder everyone said he was so good at his job.

"I say within two or three weeks you'll be off all pain medication. How's the pain after surgery?"

"Significantly reduced. I was on a morphine drip the day of the surgery and I had a bit of pain in my lower back the day after, but I feel much better now. I felt such a relief immediately after the surgery."

"Undergoing surgery was the right decision. Postponing it would have only made your condition worse."

"Now I realize that."

"You do know you're not allowed to lift anything heavy?" he asked, glancing at me over the thick rim of his glasses. His dark skin contrasted strongly with the rim's electric yellow, giving his eyes a mischievous gleam.

I already liked him a lot, and I didn't even know him aside from the handful of words we had exchanged. Something told me he was both ambitious and hard-working, and for that reason, we were going to get along just fine.

I nodded. "Yes. It's common sense, I guess."

"Not to everyone." He chuckled, leaning back into his seat. "Also, try not to sit in a recliner; it puts too much strain on your back."

"Okay." I made mental notes with everything he was telling me.

He paused for a brief moment before continuing. "Hot showers might help, and you'll have to walk around as much as possible."

"Can I leave the house; go to work?" I asked, eager for a positive answer. I hated feeling like a prisoner in my own home.

"You can, but my suggestion is that you don't. Sitting in an office chair all day long won't do you any good. You need to allow your body time to heal. Just take it easy for a while. Ease back into it."

Okay, that wasn't exactly what I was hoping for, but I did my best not to look too disappointed. Admittedly, I was too much of a workaholic to enjoy sitting at home and practically doing nothing. Bringing some of my work at home could have kept me occupied for a while, but I didn't think it was going to be enough. I missed the meetings and the general buzz of a workday at the office. I missed interacting with my clients. Of course, getting to spend more time with Isabella was nice, but the truth was I was already starting to get bored out of my mind.

"So, what is our exercise plan?"

"That is what I was getting to." He smiled. "Recovery exercises include gentle aerobic exercise, back stretches, and abdominal and back strengthening exercises. I know you were an active person before, going to the gym regularly, and our sessions together will serve to help you heal, as well as ease you back into your old routine."

"I'm eager already." I chuckled, rubbing my palms over the tops of my thighs. "When do we start?"

"Sometime next week. We'll need to set a schedule that accommodates both of us."

"Great," I said, watching as he pulled out his phone to check his calendar. Next week couldn't come soon enough.

_~~ 0 ~~_

Later, as I was lying in bed, going through a medical brochure Dorian had left me, Isabella plopped down beside me.

"Look what I found lying around in a drawer." She handed me the picture she was holding.

My eyebrows shot up at the sight of it. "I forgot I even had this. I took it."

It was a picture of Tanya at our wedding, taken on the steps of the church. She was looking at the camera over her shoulder, her blond hair falling over her exposed back. The dress was simple, but so very_ her_. It wrapped around her curves elegantly, the lace ruffles adorning the back giving it a unique cut that matched Tanya's personality perfectly.

"She was so beautiful," Isabella noted, placing her head on my chest. "I hope I'll look so pretty in my wedding dress."

I kissed the top of her head, doing my best to refrain from asking when that might be. "You will."

"I doubt I can ever compete with Tanya in the looks department," she replied wistfully. "She was drop dead gorgeous _and _classy; a pretty hard to beat combo. I have to say I'm a little jealous."

"You have nothing to be jealous about. You are both beautiful in your own way."

"If you say so," she said, unconvinced. "Where did you get married?"

"We got married in Moscow. She loved that city."

She traced the contour of the picture with her forefinger like she was mulling over something. "Sometimes I wish I could have met her, you know? In the pictures she seems so lovely and fun and full of life. I don't know, I just... I wish I got the chance to know her; the only other woman you ever loved."

I smiled down at her, just as she glanced up at me. "You would have liked her."

"Do you miss her?"

"Of course I do," I replied sincerely, stroking her hair. "She'll always be a part of my life. Her, and now you, too. No matter what happens to us, this is always going to be yours." I took her hand, placing it over my heart. "We may not be wed before God yet, but to me, _you_ are my wife. Tanya remains just a beautiful memory."

Isabella started tearing up at my words, but she wiped her cheeks quickly, offering me a watery smile. "I'm just grateful you had her in your life. I'm also grateful she made you happy for such a long time. Now it's my time to make you happy."

I sighed, thinking about how much my life had changed since meeting Isabella. "You are such an amazing woman, do you know that? I'm sure that wherever she is, Tanya has given us her blessing. She would have loved you, if she ever got the chance to meet you. And you do make me so very happy."

She wrapped her arm around my torso, squeezing me to her lightly. "So, I have Tanya on my side... and Emmett... and Carlisle... Jasper and Alice... Jess..."

"...and Rosalie who _will_ come around," I added, and she gave me a dubious look.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. As for my mother... she's another story entirely."

She nodded in agreement. "That she is."

_~~ 0 ~~_

"What is this?" Isabella shoved the red box in my face, her voice almost hysterical.

It was a Thursday afternoon, almost three weeks after my surgery, and I'd just arrived home after a short three-hour day at the office. I raised my head from the newspaper I was reading, my eyes glued to her trembling hand.

_Shit, shit, shit, shit!_

She was holding the engagement ring I'd bought for her only days prior. Now, I didn't want to look like a pushy bastard, that being the main reason I hadn't given it to her just yet. I hadn't even planned on buying the damn thing in the first place. It just happened.

Last week I'd been browsing the net aimlessly when I stumbled upon a jewelry site. I'd clicked on it, thinking I could find a pair of earrings or a bracelet for her upcoming birthday. Plus, I'd wanted to show her my love and gratitude for taking care of me.

I'd looked through page after page and couldn't seem to find what I had in mind for her. And then, just as I was one click away from exiting the site, I saw it. It was perfect. In fact, it was so perfect I couldn't help but stare at it for minutes, imagining what it would look like on Isabella's finger.

A few days later, I was leaving their shop with two red jewelry bags and a $94,000 lighter Amex. The ring alone had cost me just above $50,000. Add the sapphire and diamonds bracelet, and I had spent a small fortune in just under an hour.

Maybe it was absurd to spend such an amount of money on a piece of jewelry, but no matter what I did, I couldn't take my mind off that ring. Besides, it wasn't an ordinary engagement ring. It had an exquisite 3.5 carat oval cut center stone set in a Platinum setting encrusted with smaller round cut diamonds. It was pricey, but Isabella was more than worthy of it. It was just flawless, and I could bet she was going to love it.

Well… after she got over the initial shock.

"How did you find it?" I asked, trying to sound calm, although I was anything but.

I hadn't wanted her to stumble upon it like that. It had been stupid of me to leave it in such a random place. I should have known better. I should have kept it in the safe.

Now my plans were ruined. I'd wanted to book tickets for Venice and ask her to marry me in a more appropriate setting. I'd wanted to be romantic and give her a memorable proposal. But more importantly, I'd wanted to give her more time. The last thing I needed was for her to feel pressured. I didn't want to rush things and give her the ring before she was ready to accept it.

And did I mention today was her birthday?

I hated to think that I'd just ruined her good mood and the surprise I had planned for later.

"I was about to do laundry and the box fell from your jacket's pocket when I moved it to get the shirt laying beneath it on the chair," she explained, her intense gaze trained on me. She looked like she was about to be sick.

"Idiot," I muttered under my breath, dropping the newspaper in my lap and gripping my hair in frustration.

"Edward..." she trailed off, seeming at a loss of words.

"I didn't plan on giving it to you right away," I rushed to explain, getting up from the couch. "I know what we talked and I'm not trying to pressure you. Just... forget you ever found it. I'll take it back tomorrow."

Her eyes widened as she placed a hand on my chest. "No."

"No?" I asked, unsure what she meant by it.

She shook her head. "You can't take it back," she said more softly, glancing down and opening the box. "I love the ring."

For a moment my heart stopped beating. "Please tell me I'm not imagining things," I begged, hoping I was getting her right. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I..." She paused to take a deep breath like she was steeling herself. "I think so."

I dropped to my knee in an instant.

"No!" she exclaimed, panicked, reaching for me. "Don't get down on one knee; I don't want you hurting your back."

"I'm fine." I grinned, the sudden rush of adrenaline coursing through my body neutralizing any other sensation. I took her hand in mine, kissing its back over and over.

God, I loved her. This was what I'd been waiting for a long time. My heart seemed bent on ripping its way through my chest; it was such an intense feeling. I hadn't felt this kind of rush in many years.

I was starting to realize that the first time I proposed it hadn't felt quite so… big. I had been young and a bit naïve. This time around I was fully aware of the ring's significance. Engagement was the first step to linking our lives and implicitly our destinies. Once we got married, we would have to face the world together as a single unit. For better or for worse…

And in just a few months we were going to be parents. This thought alone was enough to make me deliriously happy. Everything I had dreamed of was about to become reality.

When I looked up at Isabella, she was already crying.

"This wasn't supposed to happen like this, but…" I swallowed thickly, searching for the right words. "Isabella, will you _someday_ be my wife?"

"Yes," she answered without missing a beat. "Yes. I want this. I want you."

I slid the ring on her finger before rising to my feet to give her a proper kiss. "I love you," I murmured in her hair, holding her to me. "You mean everything to me. I'm so glad you said yes. I was afraid this was going to ruin your birthday."

"I love you, too," she exhaled, her brown eyes searching for mine as she pulled back a little. "I want to be your wife, Edward, I really do. I'm just scared of us rushing into this marriage because of the baby. I'm scared of things not working out between us. I don't think I'd have the strength to go through a divorce if they didn't."

"This marriage _will_ work out. There's no reason for it not to. My family, and by my family I mean my mother, will never come between us. I'll never allow it."

"Promise me," she pleaded, and it stung that she sounded so insecure about our future together.

"I swear it to you," I said, cupping her cheek and peppering kisses all over her tear-stained face. "You can't even imagine how happy you've made me."

She smiled her softest smile, her arms wrapping around my neck. "You were already telling everyone I was your fiancée; we just made it official."

I stroked her hair, my expression becoming more serious. "It may not mean that much to you, but it means a lot to me."

"How can you say that?" She actually looked hurt. "Of course it means a lot to me, too. I'm ecstatic to be wearing this ring, but I can't help being afraid of what the future has in store for us."

"You have nothing to be afraid of. I'll always love you. I'll always take care of you and our baby. You're all that matters, Isabella."

"And you're the only family I have left," she said, caressing my cheek. "Please remember that."

"Don't say that," I comforted. "What about your aunt Kate? And what about Angela? She's more family to you than Emmett has ever been to me."

"I love them both dearly, but my future lies with you. And please don't talk like that about your brother."

"Well, it's the truth," I said stubbornly.

"I think Emmett is a good brother. He just worries about you, and in my book that means he loves you as only a big brother could."

I snorted unceremoniously, letting go of her and walking over to the windows. "Love in this situation is pretty far-fetched."

"You can be really obtuse, you know that?" she shot back, coming to stand beside me.

"I don't want to fight," I said, staring at the skyscrapers outside. "Not today."

"Neither do I, but you're really starting to piss me off. I have come to appreciate Emmett; why can't you?"

I sighed, stealing a sideways glance at her. "I didn't say I don't appreciate him, but..."

"But nothing. You're being mean and stubborn and ungrateful. Can't you see that he's come a long way since when I first met him? It must have been hard on him, but he kept an open mind and now he accepts me as family."

I frowned and turned to her. "Whose side are you on, anyway?"

"Ours." She stated in a no nonsense tone, daring me to contradict her.

"Can we not talk about my brother anymore? You like him now. Fine; I'm glad."

She crossed her arms over her chest, her new ring shining in the afternoon light. "Are you?"

"Of course I am," I replied defensively. "I really am."

"If you say so." She sighed, her shoulders dropping. The ring caught her eye, and her face broke into a sly smile. "Who should we tell first? I mean, _if_ you think now is a good time to tell them."

"Now is as good a time as any. Postponing the announcement won't make any difference."

She chewed her lip as she thought about it for a moment. "Can we tell them over the phone?"

I chuckled, reaching for her and pulling her back into my arms. "It wouldn't be right. Let's invite everyone over for dinner one of these days."

"I don't know about that, Edward..." She looked up at me, her palms running up and down my back in a very comforting manner.

"Don't worry; I won't feed you to the wolves this time. I promise." I kissed her, and she sighed, leaning into me.

"I trust you," she murmured, her eyes so full of love. "Now about that surprise you mentioned this morning…"

"Let's leave it a surprise until dinner, shall we?" I smiled, rubbing the sides of her prominent baby bump.

She grinned. "Is it nice?"

"You mean your present?"

"Yeah."

"I would certainly hope so," I teased.

"W-e-e-ell, can I have it now?" she drawled, continuing to grin up at me. I loved it when she was being playful.

"No."

She pouted in an exaggerated manner. "Why not?"

"Because."

"Because what?" she insisted, staring at me expectantly.

I refrained from rolling my eyes at her like a petulant child. "Because I made dinner reservations at Alinea."

Her eyes widened, her lips curving into that sexy smile she reserved only for me. "No way."

"Yes, way," I said playfully. "I take it you're pleased with my choice of location?"

"This birthday is getting better and better." She looked excited.

"You know I would do anything to make you happy."

"Anything?" she inquired mischievously, her stance so much more relaxed than earlier.

"Yes," I said a bit reluctant, knowing I probably wasn't going to like what she was about to ask of me.

"You can give me my present."

I sighed and shook my head. "Do you really want it _now_?"

"Yeah. I'm curious what it is."

"Fine," I relented easily. It was her birthday, after all. If she wanted her present now, I had no choice but to comply. "Wait here."

I left her standing in the living room while I headed to my study. Opening the desk drawer, I pulled out the _Cirque du Soleil_ tickets, trying to imagine how excited Isabella was going to be at the opportunity to finally see their show _Alegria_.

The sapphire bracelet sat at the bottom of the drawer, and I stared at it, safely tucked away in its red box. It suddenly dawned on me how stupid I had been to separate it from the engagement ring. In my haste to hide them, I hadn't given the location as much thought as I should have. I should have realized that Isabella was more likely to stumble upon something I had hidden in my jacket rather than in my study.

Oh, well, I couldn't turn back time and undo what had so idiotically been done. I had ruined my own plans, but at least Isabella's reaction had been a positive one. I really had no idea what I would have done if she said no. I preferred not to dwell on that specific thought for too long.

A minute later, I was handing Isabella the envelope holding the two tickets. She made quick work of opening it, her giddy expression almost matching that of a five-year-old getting a toy.

"Oh, Edward, this is so nice of you," she said, grinning from ear to ear as she stared down at them. "This is a lovely present. Thank you."

"I know you've wanted to see this show for a long time," I said, unsure how she was going to react to the second part of her surprise. "And there's more."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "More?"

Without further ado, I dug into my back pocket, pulling out the long jewelry box. I gave it to her, and her expression turned incredulous.

"What are you doing? Is this…"

"I don't want to hear a single word of complaint," I warned, cutting her off. "I'm serious."

She opened the box and gasped. "Oh, my God. This is way _way_ too much. I didn't want to say anything about the absurdly expensive engagement ring, but the bracelet, too? Edward, the both of them must have cost a fortune."

"Money's not an issue; you know that," I argued, having expected some degree of resistance from her. "I want you to have the best of everything. Besides, it pleases me to buy jewelry for my future wife. Please don't fight me on this."

She shook her head, the biting of her lower lip telling me it was taking all she had not to throw a fit about me spending so much money on her.

She had to get used to expensive presents if she was going to be my wife. I had always enjoyed buying things for Tanya, and I didn't plan on making an exception with Isabella. I mean, what was the point of having money if you weren't allowed to spend it on the people you loved?

After a moment, she drew in a deep breath, allowing a genuine smile on her lips. "I love it; I really do. I love everything about this day. And I love you. Thank you."

_~~ 0 ~~_

That Saturday we invited everyone over for dinner, including Kate and Angela with her boyfriend.

Isabella was a nervous wreck. She kept wringing her hands and toying with her engagement ring as we waited for the first guests to arrive. No one except Angela knew about the engagement, and she was also afraid of how they were going to react to the news.

I sat in an armchair, trying to concentrate on the TV show playing, but was distracted by Isabella relentlessly pacing the living room. She was wearing a simple black dress and silver high-heel sandals, her hair pulled up in a loose bun. I, for one, had opted for a more casual look: black jeans and a gray button down.

"The only thing that pacing is going to do is wear a hole in the floor." I followed her with my eyes, her nervousness starting to get to me. "Will you calm down already?"

She stopped abruptly, letting out a staggered breath. "I feel like I'm going to hyperventilate."

"Baby," I said more softly, holding out my hand. "Come here."

She sat on my lap, but almost immediately jumped back to her feet. "I don't want to hurt your back."

I rolled my eyes at her, pulling her back down. "You won't. Did I ever tell you, you worry too damn much?"

"I know," she said so softly; it was barely a whisper. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back as she drew in a few deep breaths.

I kissed the side of her neck, hoping my display of affection would help. I held her to me, and after a minute or two she seemed to have calmed down.

"Oh!" she exhaled all of a sudden. Her eyes flew open as her hand went to her baby bump. "I think I just felt the baby move."

"Really?" My eyebrows rose in surprise, and I placed my hand beside hers. "I can't feel anything."

She let out such a carefree laugh, it almost made me forget she had been so wound up only moments prior. "Oh, my God. It's like having butterflies in your stomach."

"First date like butterflies?" I asked curiously.

"No, more like nervous twitch butterflies or a tumbling motion."

I frowned, starting to rub circles around her bump. "I want to feel him, too."

"You scared him," she teased.

"I did not. I'm his father; he's not afraid of me. I'm the one reading him stories at night."

"Maybe you should try singing to him," she went on, tugging on my hair playfully.

I barely had time to open my mouth before the doorbell rang noisily, cutting through our banter like a chainsaw. I had already instructed Peter to let everyone up without announcing them first.

"I'll get it," I said, gently removing her from my lap, then getting up and kissing her cheek. "Everything's going to be alright."

She nodded but didn't look so convinced. As soon as I opened the front door, I was assaulted by a large bouquet of violets.

"Congrats!" Angela squeaked, her head appearing from behind the flowers. Then, without warning whatsoever, she jumped into my arms with such force she knocked the wind out of me.

"Shit!" The curse escaped me unintentionally as I stumbled back a couple of steps. I definitely hadn't expected that.

"Sorry," she said apologetically, pulling back with a sheepish grin. "I got a little overexcited. Where's the future bride?"

I rubbed my chest and motioned with my head towards the living room, momentarily unable to speak. She started in that direction, and I let Ben inside, his expression telling me we were in for a long night.

Almost forty minutes later, everyone was there except for Emmett, Rosalie and Jess. Isabella had tried to keep the ring out of sight until the right moment by turning the stone towards the interior of her palm. To her credit, she managed to look calm and collected as she entertained the family with stories about her childhood in Forks. Well, for the most part. Throwing fugitive glances at her, I could still see the way her eyes kept checking the clock every few minutes.

One last doorbell ring, and the audience was about to be completed. I walked over to the front door, praying that the evening was going to continue as smoothly as it had started.

Jessica was the first to greet me with a tight hug. She kissed me on the cheek before kicking her shoes to the side and running towards the living room where the others were gathered.

"Hi, Edward," Rosalie said quietly, looking somewhat uneasy to be there.

"Hey," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "I'm glad you came."

"I can't believe I've never been here," Emmett commented as he took in his surroundings curiously. He helped Rosalie out of her hot pink blazer, and she offered him a soft smile.

"Yeah, well, everyone is in the living room." I nodded my head, taking the blazer from Emmett and hanging it in the nearby closet. "After you."

All conversation ceased when we entered the room, each pair of eyes set on the newcomers. I could see Isabella stiffen from where she sat in the armchair, and gave her what I hoped to be an encouraging look.

"Good evening," Rosalie greeted, visibly taken aback by the numerous crowd and the unknown faces. I had intentionally let her believe this was a casual family dinner.

"Good, everyone is here," I said, and was about to suggest we move into the dining room when Rosalie turned to me with a murderous look.

"Not everyone."

"Rose..." Emmett warned, placing a hand on her hip.

"What's this about?" she hissed, her demeanor doing a one-eighty.

"I thought we could discuss it over dinner," I said cautiously, trying to avoid a fight.

"Discuss what over dinner?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously as her piercing blue irises searched my face for an answer.

I stared back at her, doing my best to keep my expression neutral. Then, as if it suddenly dawned on her, her head snapped in Isabella's direction. It took her less than two seconds to figure out what was going on.

She looked at me incredulously. "Is that an engagement ring on her finger?"

"What?" I heard Alice gasp just as every head in the room turned towards Isabella who now looked petrified. Her left hand formed a tight fist as she tried to keep the ring hidden.

"I..." she trailed off, at a loss for words. She had just been put in the spotlight, but not the way we had planned.

"Is that why we're all here?" Rosalie asked, her tone getting sharper. Her ridiculously high stilettos dug into Isabella's favorite white carpet, no doubt leaving marks, and I cringed, knowing how upset she was going to be the next day.

"Yes," I cut in, starting to get annoyed with her attitude. "I proposed and she said yes. I wanted to make it right and let everyone know."

The look on Rosalie's face... I couldn't even describe it. There were so many mixed emotions.

"Make it right? This is not right! This is a disaster. I can't believe you, Edward. Your mother is God knows where, and all you care about is buying diamond rings and making plans for the future. Where does _she _fit into your bright little future?" One moment she was furious, and the next tears welled up in her eyes. She shook her head, looking like she was about to lose it.

The room turned so silent I could hear my own breath. Everyone was waiting for the proverbially shit to hit the fan.

I swallowed thickly, steeling myself for a shouting match. And then, out of the blue, Rosalie turned on her heels and stormed out of the room, without saying a word, leaving all of us dumbfounded.

"Rose!" I called, my feet starting to move of their own accord as I ran after her. I caught up to her just as she was entering the kitchen.

"It's not fair. It's not fair to her, Edward. She's so miserable," she said, her voice shaky, and I realized she was teetering on the verge of a breakdown. She ran a hand through her long hair, walking backwards until the back of her thighs hit the kitchen table. "Oh, God, I'm so scared for her."

Her face contorted, morphing into a pained expression.

I was beside her in two long strides. I wrapped my arms around her quickly, and that was all it took for her to start crying. "Shhh. It's okay."

"No, it's not," she wailed, covering her face. "_She'll _never be okay again and that makes me so angry. How could we let things get here?"

"It's no one's fault things turned out the way they did," I comforted while holding her. "Life can be a real pain in the ass sometimes. Some obviously handle it better than others."

"I know I've turned into such a bitch and this isn't me, but I can't seem to help it. I love her like my own mother. I can't stand to see her suffer."

"I know and I admire that about you. But you need to understand that I have the right to live my own life. I have the right to be happy again."

She sniffed, looking at me with bloodshot eyes. "I know that, too, Edward. Do you honestly think I don't want you to be happy?"

I sighed heavily. In a way I had always known it would come to this. Rose had such a strong personality; it was hard for her to admit she had been wrong. But I got the feeling this was exactly where our conversation was heading.

"Can you please accept Isabella?" I tried hopefully, seizing the opportunity to finally make peace with my sister-in-law. "Do it for me. Please."

She shook her head, but it wasn't a '_no_'. It was more like an '_I don't know what the hell I'm doing anymore'_. "I don't hate her. I just... it's so hard accepting her, the woman who has caused Esme so much pain."

"You know damn well that's not true," I said more firmly. "Isabella did nothing wrong, except maybe falling in love with me. Don't you see how much Jess loves her?"

I knew I'd hit a chord when she looked down at her hands, avoiding my intense scrutiny. "I do."

"She's so good to me," I pressed, wanting to make her understand how much Isabella meant to me. "She's given me my life back and soon she'll give me a son. I'm happier than I've been in a long time. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Of course it does," she replied so softly I could barely hear her. "You know I care about you."

"Then please, I beg of you, give her a chance."

"Edward..." she whispered, sounding so broken.

"Please, Rose. Do it for me. Don't try to be someone you're not just to please my mother. She's sick and you should know better. Get to know Isabella first and then you can judge all you like."

She remained silent for a long moment, which to me seemed like an eternity. A few quiet sobs escaped her from time to time. I stood with my arms wrapped securely around her, tensely waiting for a reaction.

When her eyes finally met mine again, they were so grief-stricken and full of tears, I couldn't decide whether it was good or bad.

For once in my life, I wished I could read people's minds.

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><p><strong>AN What will her answer be? Next chapter we pick up where we left off, only in Bella's pov :)  
><strong>

**For teasers concerning the upcoming chapters check TPB Facebook group (link is on my profile)**

**Thank you for reading and being patient :)**

**~ Andreea ~**


	33. Chapter 32: Affected

**A/N Thank you, beautiful beta a.k.a Mid Night Cougar; you are a life saver! I honestly don't know what I would do without you...**

**Jen, you rock!**

**A special thank you goes to_ ilovealion _for her medical expertise. She was a wealth of knowledge and a great help to both Mid Night Cougar and I.**

**Here we go again...**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 32<strong>

**Bella POV**

* * *

><p><em>~ September 15th, 2012 ~<em>

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

"Are you guys really engaged?" Alice asked excitedly, jumping from her seat as soon as Rosalie and Edward left the living room.

Everyone else in the room looked preoccupied by their drinks. Except Angela. She looked downright pissed, her eyes trained on me.

I sighed heavily, pretty much still reeling after Rosalie's reaction. The sad part was I was starting to get used to her scenes by now. It was like the more I got to interact with her, the more resigned I got to the fact she was probably never going to change her attitude towards me. Besides, it's not like I hadn't seen it coming.

I felt the beginning of a headache creeping up my left temple and lifted my hand to rub the spot gently. Forcing my eyes to focus on Alice, I tried my best to give her a half-hearted smile.

"Yeah, Alice, I guess we are."

Her expression became more serious. "Don't mind Rosalie. You know how she is."

"Oh, I know." I chuckled dryly before lowering my voice a little. "Is it pathetic that it bothers me Edward ran after her?"

"No, it's not. I'm with you on this; I think you put up with enough bullshit from her. But I also think Edward saw the opportunity to talk some sense into her and didn't want to miss it."

"Maybe he should just smack that sense into her," I muttered.

She sighed, smiling softly in return. "Can I see the ring?"

I lifted my hand, turning the stone so she could see it.

"Oh, my God, it's gorgeous!" she exclaimed. "I always knew Edward had impeccable taste."

I squeezed her hand, making sure to give her a meaningful look. "Thank you. For everything."

"You know I think you're going to be the best sister-in-law, don't you?" she replied. "I liked you from the very moment I met you. You're going to be an amazing wife and an even better mom."

"I'm so glad to have you on my side," I said, my voice betraying the emotions that were threatening to take over.

"Now don't you get emotional on me, okay?" she joked, but I could see she was feeling sorry for me.

Everyone in the room was. I had once again been humiliated by my future sister-in-law; this time in my own home. She was cruel, and I was an idiot for letting her treat me that way. I wanted to be angry with her, but couldn't anymore. I just felt drained.

"Sorry. These pregnancy hormones have been kicking my butt lately," I replied, discreetly wiping the corners of each eye.

"I can't believe that woman," Angela seethed, suddenly materializing beside Alice. "She's such a pompous bitch."

"Angela..." I warned, looking at Alice warily.

She waved me off dismissively. "It's okay. Everyone has the right to an opinion. Besides, it's not like Rosalie's been very pleasant since the whole Esme drama."

"What's her problem anyway?" Angela demanded, turning her glare on Alice. "Esme's a lunatic; why is Rosalie defending her so much?"

Alice shrugged. "She's got some mommy issues."

"That doesn't explain why she's so awful to Bella. This poor woman is pregnant. The last thing she needs to worry about is Rosalie's hysterics."

"I know." Alice sighed, looking at me apologetically. "Let's hope Edward manages to talk some sense into her."

Just then Carlisle approached us, a glass of whiskey in his hand. "Ladies, I don't mean to interrupt, but I was hoping to have a word with Isabella."

"Sure," I assented, and he offered his free hand to help me up.

"You look lovely tonight," he observed as he followed behind me in the balcony.

I placed my hands on the glass railing, taking in the city lights. "Thank you."

He was quiet for a moment. Then he came to stand beside me with his elbows resting on the railing. He took a sip of his drink before speaking.

"First, I wanted to apologize for my daughter-in-law's behavior. She hasn't been herself for quite some time now."

"You have nothing to apologize for," I said, a bit harsher than I had intended. "Rosalie's a grown woman; she makes her own decisions."

"Yes, I am well aware of that. The thing is; I also know she's already _regretting _her behavior. She might not admit it, but being mean to you doesn't bring her any kind of satisfaction."

"Sir..." I started, already wanting to put an end to this conversation.

He cut me off before I could form a full sentence. "Please, call me Carlisle. I insist. And I didn't bring you here to talk about Rose. What I really wanted you to know is that I am happy for the both of you. I love Edward and I want him to find his peace again. I have no doubt you are the perfect bride for him. Not to mention that I can't wait to hold my grandson for the first time."

I nodded, relieved that we didn't have to talk about Rosalie anymore. "I felt him move for the first time today."

His smile was wistful. "I remember feeling each of my boys inside their mother's womb. It's such a wonderful experience that never gets old."

"Was it hard raising three boys?" I inquired, angling my body towards his. I genuinely wanted to know.

He looked down at his glass, swirling the amber liquid before taking another sip. "It sometimes was. Kids are so full of energy, especially young boys. I had to learn how to combine the authoritative figure with the one of a doting father."

"You did a good job," I said, touching his hand briefly. "Your sons love you. They respect and admire you."

He smiled at me warmly, squeezing my hand in return. "You're a good girl. Edward's lucky to have found you." Then his blue eyes wandered away from me, searching the busy city below. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "Did you two set a date?"

I shook my head. "Not yet. I don't think now is the right time to plan a wedding."

"Why not?" He looked at me, his brow furrowing. "You and Edward should not be postponing your life together because of Esme. She's my wife, _my_ responsibility."

"I know that but..."

He cut me off quickly, his voice taking a no-nonsense tone. "You two need to get married. My grandson should be born a Cullen; he should bear his father's name. Don't you want that for him?"

"I do..." I trailed off, taken aback by his reaction. I didn't think he cared so much.

"Then you and Edward need to start living as a family and leave the rest to me."

I swallowed thickly, my mouth suddenly feeling dry. I glanced down at the ring on my left finger and pushed back the urge to start crying. My emotions were all over the place on this particular night.

"I'm scared of losing him," I admitted, my voice a mere whisper. "I'm afraid of making plans for the future because everything might just crumble down around me when I least expect it."

I felt his hand on the small of my back. "Decisions, decisions. This is all life is about; making decisions. Some you might regret, some you might not," he said, bending his head so he could take a better look at my face. "Isabella, do you trust in Edward?"

I peered at him from under my lashes, upset that I was letting him see me so afraid and insecure. "I do."

"Then what's keeping you from taking that final step?" he asked, his kind eyes never leaving mine.

"I don't know."

He chuckled, shaking his head at me. "You need to let go of your fear and start living your life. Men are such uncomplicated creatures. We need so little, but stimulated right, can give back so much. All you have to do is learn how to stimulate Edward, and he'll be yours forever. You and I both know you already have him wrapped around your little finger. Be firmer about the things you want from him, and you'll have nothing to worry about in the future. He'll listen to you. You're all that matters now. Stop being afraid."

I stared at him, trying to absorb his words. He was actually giving me relationship advice. Thinking about it, I realized that he'd lately started to act less like a stranger and more like a future father-in-law.

"I'll try."

"Set a date," he said more firmly, starting to head back inside. "Tonight."

Left alone with my thoughts, I pondered his advice. Deep down, I recognized the truth in what he'd said; I needed to be firmer in my relationship with Edward. He was a good man; perfect for me in so many ways. But he had one huge flaw: he was insanely reliant on his family, and that had to change while we still had time to make things right for ourselves.

Taking a step back to observe the bigger picture, I had to admit to myself that at this point in our relationship, I'd come to love him so much it physically hurt. I couldn't even fathom the thought of us ever breaking up. Taking the coward's way out and leaving him was not an option. But I was greedy and needy and wanted him all to myself. I hated thinking I was going to have to share him with his fucked up family for the rest of my life. I hated constantly feeling like I was at their mercy; like they could simply neutralize me if they ever felt like it.

His father was right. I needed to take action soon and I knew exactly what I had to do.

As I followed after Carlisle into the living room a minute later, Edward's hands wrapped around me from nowhere, startling me.

"You'll catch a cold," he scolded gently, kissing my hair. I smiled up at him and noticed he seemed relaxed. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Really?" he insisted.

"Really. How's Rosalie?" I asked politely, knowing damn well I shouldn't have even bothered.

"Better." He looked pleased with himself for some reason. "Everyone's in the dining room. We should join them."

"Yeah..." I agreed, stopping him when he moved to walk away. "Edward?"

"Yes, my love?" He smiled, running his thumb over my knuckles.

"I want to set a date," I said firmly, leaving no room for interpretation. Soon he was going to be mine and mine alone.

His eyebrows rose questioningly. "For the wedding, you mean?"

"Yes. I want to be your wife. Soon."

He was quiet for a moment as he searched my face for something, and I feared he was going to see right through me and recognize the motive behind my sudden decision.

"Okay," he finally said, nodding in agreement. "What did you have in mind?"

I let out a relieved breath, wrapping both arms around his waist. "How about two months from now?"

He caressed my cheek in return, a worried look overtaking his handsome features. "Why the hurry, Bella? Isn't that a bit short notice to organize such an event?"

I shook my head, smiling at him sweetly. "I don't want a big reception. I just want to be your wife."

"Why the sudden change of heart?" he asked, his hand running down from my cheek to my neck. "Don't get me wrong, I love the idea. I just don't get where this is coming from, all of a sudden."

"It's only fair to the baby," I lied. "His mommy and daddy should be married when he comes into the world. Please let me have this, Edward."

"Okay," he breathed, kissing my lips softly. "Whatever you want."

"Yeah?" I asked, starting to get excited. Even though I had ulterior motives, the prospect of organizing my own wedding made me really happy.

"There's much to be done though. Looking for a house, picking a wedding dress, finding a suitable venue... Are you sure you can handle the stress?"

I nodded enthusiastically, running my palms up and down his broad back. "I already went through so much more since becoming pregnant. Let's just say this will be positive stress, and I need something positive in my life right now."

His lips turned up in a heartwarming smile. "I love you."

"I love you," I echoed, gazing up into his green abysses adoringly. Each day I was more amazed how much I could actually feel for the man standing in front of me.

He took my right hand from around him, bringing the knuckles to his mouth. "Shall we join the rest of the family?" he murmured, his soft kisses causing an unexpected surge of heat through my body.

"We shall," I breathed, wishing everyone would just go away. Right now, I really wanted some time alone with my fiancé.

When we entered the dining room, Susan and her daughter Caroline were already serving the hors d'œuvre. Everyone was chatting animatedly, and I breathed a sigh of relief that the awkward moment from earlier seemed to have been forgotten.

Edward held out my chair, and I smiled at him before taking my seat next to Jasper. Edward sat at the head of the table, reaching over to take my hand in his as Caroline set his plate in front of him.

We'd met Caroline the day before. She owned a small catering business, and both Edward and I had been more than happy to have her provide the food for this evening. She was in her early twenties, had short platinum blond hair and an impressive collection of pink ear-piercings. I liked her a lot. She was witty and crazy funny, and when she set my plate in front of me, I could see Susan smile at her from across the table; she was so proud of her.

Emmett entered the room a minute later and leaned down to whisper in my ear. "Congrats."

I looked up at him and smiled. "Thanks, Em." His nasty wife was nowhere in sight, and I made it my business to find out if she'd left. "Where's Rosalie?"

"She's in the bathroom," he replied, squeezing my shoulder lightly. His expression was serious. "I'm sorry for what she said, Bella."

I nodded. "Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she'll be fine."

Jasper rose to his feet holding a glass of wine, and Emmett left my side to take his seat at the other end of the table.

"I think a toast is in order," Jasper said, glancing from Edward to me. He looked genuinely happy for us. "Edward and Bella, we are _all _delighted with the news. May your life as a married couple treat you kindly. We wish you all the happiness in the world and good health to look after your little one. Bella, welcome to the family."

"Cheers!" Ben boomed, grinning at me. Angela chuckled, her eyes caressing his face like only a lover could.

"Cheers!" The others echoed, raising their glasses. Edward and I did the same.

"Did you think of a date yet?" Kate inquired softly, taking a sip from her wine. Garrett was out of state on business so he hadn't been able to attend.

Edward gave a small nod, his eyes sweeping over to me. He was letting me answer the question.

"Well, not exactly, but we were thinking two months from now," I replied, giving her an apologetic smile. I hadn't been too much of a good niece lately.

"So soon?" Alice gasped. "But two months isn't enough time to plan a wedding."

"We want something small, just family and a few close friends," Edward said, giving Alice a warning look. "Two months is enough time."

"I think a small reception is ideal." Kate smiled at me over the rim of her glass.

Just then Rosalie made an appearance. She looked like she had been crying, and for a brief second I actually felt bad for her. Quietly, she claimed her seat beside Jess, her blue eyes concentrating hard on her plate rather than the people in the room.

She looked so... broken.

Jess bit her lip as she stared at her mother's profile intensely. Then she reached under the table for her hand, and Rosalie's head snapped up as she regarded her daughter with surprise. A genuine smile crept its way to her face, which Jess mirrored, and for a moment my heart stopped beating. This was what a child's love looked like. Even a person like Rosalie couldn't deny its power.

After sharing a meaningful look, the both of them turned back to their meals, but I found myself unable to tear my gaze away. Was I going to make a good mother? Was my child ever going to look at me like that? My hand unconsciously drifted down to my stomach.

Edward noticed and leaned over the table to whisper in my ear. "You're going to be amazing. He's going to love you so much."

I sighed wistfully. "Yeah..."

Later that evening as everyone was preparing to leave, Rosalie approached me tentatively. "Can we speak somewhere more private?"

Her tall silhouette towered over me, her gaze impassive. Glancing past her, my eyes met Emmett's and they were practically begging me to say yes.

"Yeah, sure," I relented. "Follow me."

I led her into the master bedroom, softly closing the door behind us. I gestured toward the bed. "Have a seat."

She shook her head, choosing to head over to the windows. Crossing her arms over her chest, she stared at the glowing city outside. When she spoke, her voice sounded resigned.

"I can't do this. I don't want to be the bad guy anymore."

"Rosalie, I…" I trailed off, unsure of how to respond to such a thing.

She turned her attention on me, her expression blank. "I know you don't like me, and I'm not asking you to. I've been a bitch to you pretty much the entire time since meeting you. I'm not asking for your forgiveness either. I won't pretend to change overnight, so don't expect a drastic improvement of my behavior towards you. But I think we can be civil with each other. We both owe this much to Edward."

"Okay," I replied, trying to hide my shock. I wasn't sure where this was coming from, but I was grateful she was at least willing to stop being such a horrible person.

"That's it?" she snapped, starting to look annoyed.

_Whoa... talk about an abrupt change in mood._

"What else do you want me to say, Rosalie?" I sighed, exasperated. She was so difficult.

"For starters, it would be nice knowing you don't hate my guts. In case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to make peace with you."

I shrugged, mimicking her posture. "Of course I don't hate you. I want us to get along, I really do. It would mean so much to Edward. He really cares about you."

I felt like I had to walk on eggshells with her. One misplaced word and she was liable to explode.

Her expression softened. "I know he does, and I care about him just as much. That's why I don't want us to fight anymore. He deserves a little peace in his life." She tucked a blond strand behind her ear, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "I'm not blind; I can see how much he loves you. You make him feel… complete again, and that's all that matters for now."

"I'm glad you are finally able to see reason," I said, getting the feeling this was going to be one difficult relationship. "But for the record, _we _haven't been fighting, Rosalie; you have been the one unfairly fighting me at every turn. I've done no fighting, just been your punching bag."

_Lord give me strength to deal with this woman..._

She nodded, taking a few steps towards the door before stopping abruptly with a deep sigh. "Yes, you are right, it was me. I'm... I'm sorry." She regarded me thoughtfully for a moment before continuing. "Also…" She looked uncertain. "Jess was wondering if she could spend the night. She misses her uncle."

I smiled. "I love Jess, and we'd be more than happy to have her over for the night."

"Well, then, Emmett and I should be going," she said, her blue irises sweeping over the evidence of my engagement. "The ring is lovely."

With that she left the room. I exhaled deeply, letting my head fall back as I stared at the ceiling.

"Thank God," I muttered under my breath.

An hour later, I was exiting the bathroom wearing only my too short, white, cotton nightie. Edward was undressing, his eyes trained on the TV. Suddenly aware of my presence, his head turned towards me. He smiled as he took me in.

"Could have been worse, right?" he asked, shrugging off his shirt.

"Probably," I said, reaching into my nightstand's top drawer and pulling out the hand cream. I squirted some in my palm and rubbed it evenly on both hands.

I decided I didn't want to know what had transpired between him and Rosalie when he went after her, so I wasn't even going to ask.

"Do I want to know what Rosalie said to you?" he inquired instead.

I shrugged. "She was amiable. And she apologized... sort of."

"Good." He removed his jeans and socks, tossing them on the back of an armchair along with his shirt. "Should we call it a night?"

"Yeah, I do feel a bit tired. Has Jess gone to bed?"

"She has," he answered, walking over to me with a predatory look on his face.

I closed the drawer and pulled back the duvet, preparing to climb into bed. He came to stand behind me, his strong arms wrapping around my middle.

"I miss you," he whispered seductively, peppering butterfly-like kisses along my exposed neck.

"Do you think we could…?" I trailed off, uncertain. We hadn't had sex since his surgery, and I needed him as much as he needed me.

He pushed against me, his growing erection making its presence known. "We could try."

I pushed back against his groin, searching for friction. "I want you so much, but... your back," I breathed.

He groaned softly. "I want you too, baby. Dorian said I should be fine as long as we're careful."

"I can't believe you asked him," I said, mortified.

"I'm a desperate man," was his unashamed reply as his hand trailed up my thigh and under my nightie. He cupped me intimately, and I moaned, reaching up to fist his hair.

It turned out, me on all fours worked just fine for the both of us.

_~~ 0 ~~_

A week later I got a call from Alice.

"Hey, you," she greeted cheerfully.

"Hi, Alice," I said, placing my glass of lemonade on the coffee table and sitting on the couch. The TV was on some news channel, and I grabbed the remote, starting to zap aimlessly.

"What are you doing later?" she asked, and I could hear traffic noise in the background.

"Um… not much. I just baked a pie and was thinking about starting a book I borrowed from my aunt. Why?"

"How about we go shopping for your wedding dress?" she suggested. "You're already running out of time, and who knows, maybe I'll find something for myself."

The idea sounded appealing. "Yeah, that sounds good. Do you mind if I bring my friend Angela? Today's her day off, and she would murder me if she found out I went dress shopping without her."

Alice chuckled at the same time a loud horn blared very close to her. "Of course I don't mind, silly. I like her."

"Where are you? The noise is deafening."

"Ah, rush hour on Michigan Avenue," she replied, amused. "The Mag Mile to be exact. I'm heading to lunch with a coworker and we just passed one of those bridal boutiques. That's how the idea struck me."

"So where should we meet?"

"I'll pick you up around two thirty," she said, starting to sound distracted. "I have to go; I think I just spotted a friend of mine."

"Oh, okay."

"See you soon."

She hung up, and I glanced at the clock, seeing it was five to one. Enough time to get ready. I dialed Angela, and she picked up after what seemed like an eternity.

"Get out of bed, loser," I joked, heading towards the bedroom, my book and lemonade long forgotten. "We're going shopping."

"I wasn't sleeping," she mumbled gruffly. "I was just… resting my eyes."

"Yeah, right." I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn't see me. She was such a hopeless liar. "Get up; we'll pick you up in two hours."

"Who's we?" She sounded more alert, her interest now piqued.

"Alice and I."

Angela sighed heavily. "Where are we going again?"

I reached the walk-in closet and began hunting for something to wear. "I need to find a wedding dress, and Alice offered to join me. I didn't think you wanted to miss dress shopping."

"I don't. I'll see you soon, yeah?"

"Yup."

I tossed the phone on a small ottoman and put my hands akimbo as I looked around.

_What the hell does one wear for a long day of trying on dresses?_

_~~ 0 ~~_

"So, um, don't people usually need an appointment for a shop like this?" I whispered to Alice as the three of us stepped through the doors at _Belle Vie Bridal Couture _on 34 East Oak Street, 4th Floor. The place was seriously upscale.

She grinned at me knowingly. "I have friends in the right places."

We headed over to the reception area where a young woman was talking on the phone. I looked around briefly, taking in the ivory walls, pink marble floor and tall vases full of fresh flowers. Everything about this place screamed luxury.

The young receptionist ended the call and smiled at us. "Welcome to _Belle Vie_; how can I help you?"

"We're here to see Amanda," Alice spoke in a saccharin voice, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder.

"I'll buzz her," the woman said, pressing a button on her desk.

Moments later, a petite but slender brunette made an appearance. She was wearing a blue knee-length, form-fitting dress and matching pumps.

"Oh, Ali, how good to see you," she gushed, enveloping her into a warm embrace. "I haven't heard from you in ages."

"I'm sorry, I've been really busy," Alice apologized sincerely. "This is my future sister-in-law, Isabella, and her friend, Angela. Girls, this in my good friend Amanda Lee. She owns the place."

"It's very nice to meet you both," Amanda said with a perfectly practiced smile.

"Likewise," I replied. She seemed nice.

"Well, today I'll be your personal shopping assistant."

My eyes widened in surprise, the words getting out before I could stop them. "I'm sure that's not something you usually do."

She chuckled. "Indeed. I only do this for friends, and that's what you are as Alice and I go way back."

"We appreciate it," Alice said. "I know how busy you are."

"My pleasure. Your dressing room is ready," Amanda addressed me. "If you'll all follow me, I'll show you to it."

The dressing room looked like it had just fallen out of the pages of_ Brides_ magazine. It had light mauve walls and the same pink marble floor I'd seen in the reception area. In the middle of the room sat a huge leather ottoman that could easily accommodate four or five people. Facing the ottoman was an immense floor-to-ceiling mirror, and a few feet away, the actual changing area. In a corner sat a tall vase of pink roses. Everything looked amazing. Even the air smelled of expensive perfume. It made me feel a bit out of place.

"Did you have a certain cut in mind?" Amanda asked, inviting the girls to have a seat while she attended to me.

"Well, no, I really have no idea what I like," I admitted, handing my bag to Angela.

She smiled comfortingly. "Most brides don't. Alice described you a little over the phone, so I took the liberty of putting aside a few models I thought would suit you."

"Great," I replied, a bit overwhelmed.

"Would you like something to drink before we get started?"

"Water please," I said at the same time Alice said, "Champagne."

Both Angela and I gaped at her. _Champagne?_

Alice rolled her eyes at us. "What? We're celebrating."

"She's right," Amanda piped in. "_Bollinger_ sound good?"

"Perfect," Alice purred. "Two glasses for Angela and me. Bella's pregnant."

"I can see that," Amanda chuckled. "I'll be right back."

"Jesus, Alice," I breathed when she was gone. "This whole thing is kind of overwhelming."

"Yeah," Angela assented, a sly grin overtaking her features. "But I'm starting to like it."

Alice burst into laughter. "And I like you, Angela. We are going to have so much fun."

Much later, I was stepping out wearing the sixth or seventh dress for the girls to see and comment on.

"I don't know…" Angela wrinkled her nose, bringing the champagne glass to her lips. "I don't like that bow."

I looked over to Alice only to see pretty much the same expression.

"I, for one, can't stand Princess Cut gowns," she defended.

"I love the beading, though," Amanda observed. "_Valentino_ is a classic."

"It kind of squeezes my belly," I said with a frown, staring at myself in the mirror. "I'm not sure I like it either."

"You can try the Grecian style; most of the gowns flare from just under the breast line."

"Yeah, okay," I exhaled, eager to get out of the corset. At this point, I was starting to get a little irritated by the whole process of dressing and undressing.

"I think I have the perfect chiffon one," Amanda offered and slipped out of the room.

When she was back with the chiffon Grecian dress she had referred to, I put it on, but disliked it from the moment it touched my skin. It just didn't_ feel_ right.

"What do you guys think?" I asked, for what felt like the millionth time that day, twirling around.

"I'm not sure I like chiffon on you. It makes you look… big," Angela noted, her head cocked.

"Gee… thanks, Ang," I replied sarcastically.

"No, she's right." Amanda rubbed her chin, looking like she was weighing something in her mind. "Maybe we should pick another cut?"

"How about A-line?" Angela suggested, looking from me to Amanda for approval.

"I'll try anything if it means finding a dress sooner," I practically moaned. "I'm starting to feel a little tired here."

Amanda nodded; the epitome of seriousness. "Understandable. I'll see what I can do about that."

Another two dresses later, I was ready to run for the hills. Shopping for wedding gowns sucked big time. I was tired and hungry and in a foul mood.

"I think I'm ready to go now," I mumbled, pretty disappointed that I was leaving empty-handed.

"Wait." Alice jumped from her seat. "Will you try on one more? An _Elie Saab_ caught my eye when I went to the bathroom earlier."

"Which one?" Amanda wanted to know.

Alice beamed. "I'll get it. Wait right here."

"Trumpet cut?" I complained when she was back a minute later. "Are you sure? It looks kind of form-fitting to me. My baby bump is going to pop out."

"Just try it on," she insisted, pushing the lacy gown into my arms. "I have a good feeling about this one."

Amanda helped me get dressed once again. When I stepped out, I heard the girls' collective gasp.

"Really?" I questioned, watching their stunned expressions. "This one?"

Alice jumped to her feet, her grin infectious. "Take a look in the mirror."

I did and the breath caught in my throat. It was perfect... the cut, the lace, the three-quarter long sleeves... everything about it was exquisite. I was instantly so taken with it I couldn't even bring myself to care about the exorbitant price.

"Wow," I uttered, amazed that the person staring back in the mirror was actually me. I looked so... radiant.

"You look stunning," Amanda said, confirming what I could already see. She gathered my hair, pulling it up into a loose bun to expose my neck.

"This is it," Angela stated firmly. "This is _the_ dress."

I grinned from ear to ear. "I love it so much. It's gorgeous."

"Just wait until Edward sees you in it. He won't know what hit him," Alice joked, making everyone laugh.

"How soon can you have it altered?" I inquired, running my hands up and down my waist. _God, the feel of it..._

"We'll have to see Mrs. Hudson about that, but I think she can have it ready in two to three weeks. But since you're pregnant, you'll have to attend more than just one fitting."

"Great," I said, not really caring about the technical details. "I'll take it."

_~~ 0 ~~_

"A little higher." I heard Dorian say through the cracked door, his voice commanding. "Hold it. Now ease back into the initial position. Good."

I knocked before entering, and both of them looked at me expectantly. Edward was lying on a gymnastics mat with Dorian kneeling beside him; the usual routine.

"Hey," I said quietly. "Sorry for interrupting."

"No problem." Dorian smiled, getting up to grab a bottle of water and handing it to Edward.

Edward took the water gratefully, draining half of it in a single gulp. He looked exhausted.

"I just wanted to let you know I'm leaving for class," I said, pushing the strap on my messenger bag higher up my shoulder. "I'll be back by five."

"Have you had lunch?" Edward asked, slowly sitting up. He'd made so much progress since his surgery.

"Yeah." I nodded dutifully. "Steak and veggies plus dessert."

"Good." He seemed pleased about my nutritious meal, although I was anything but. I had put on enough weight in the past months. "Oh, and Alice called about an hour ago. She said you weren't answering your phone."

"Oh, okay," I replied, already reaching into my bag. "I'll call her now. See you later."

Alice picked up as I reached the elevator.

"I found the perfect venue." She dove right into the subject enthusiastically.

I chuckled, pressing the call button. "Well, hello to you, too."

"Yeah, yeah," she replied dismissively, and I could bet she was rolling her eyes at me. "When can we meet? You need to see it; it's perfect."

"Right now I'm heading for class. How about this evening?"

"I'll call you," she said with finality before hanging up.

_Okay..._

The elevator arrived, and I stepped in, leaning on one of the metal walls as I waited to reach the main lobby. I waved to Peter as I passed him, heading for the front door. Today I felt like walking.

I was sure Edward was going to flip when he realized I had taken the subway instead of my car, but I didn't really care. I could handle him.

The chilly October air felt reinvigorating on my skin, and I smiled to myself as I tucked my hands into my coat's pockets. It was such a lovely day.

Passing the nearby Starbucks, I couldn't resist the temptation. I headed inside and took my place in the short line, the smell of freshly brewed coffee intoxicating.

"Isn't this quite the coincidence," a familiar voice sneered behind me.

I groaned and closed my eyes. _James_. Just my damn luck.

"What do you want, James?" I fired back, not even bothering to turn around.

"Same as you," he replied, amused. "Coffee. Although, I don't think you should be having it in your delicate condition."

"Hello, decaf," I said in a snarky tone.

He chuckled. "Ah, yes, the infinite options..."

With a sigh, I finally turned around to face him. I was surprised to see he was with someone.

"This is Dr. Ahmed," he introduced the middle-aged, exotic-looking man.

"Hey," he acknowledged me with a short nod of his head. He looked like he hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in a while.

I gave him a brief smile. "Hi. Bella."

"Bella, Bella, Bella," James sang, showing off his perfect teeth. "You look nice. I see a little something on your left ring finger that wasn't there before."

I paled instantly, pushing my hand back into my pocket. "That's none of your business."

His answering grin was salacious. "Oh, but it is."

A chill ran down my spine. I stared back at him, his dark eyes hypnotic, and not in the good way. For a moment I felt transfixed; like I couldn't tear my eyes away from his. There was just something about those black pits that rang alarm bells. I mean, yeah, he always made me uncomfortable, but this time around he gave me the distinct impression he was up to something. It was very unsettling.

"I have to go," I mumbled, rushing past him. I needed to get out of there; just being in his presence made my skin crawl.

"What about your coffee?" I heard him call behind me.

Before I knew it, I was rushing towards the nearest underground station.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I muttered, angry at myself. "I should have taken the damn car."

For some reason, running into James on this particular day left me really disturbed. What was he doing in this part of town, so close to where Edward and I lived?

All of a sudden, I felt like I was going to have a panic attack. Reaching the platform, I stopped and leaned against the closest wall. I took a few deep breaths, willing myself to calm down. I felt a bit lightheaded, and my heart seemed to be pounding a bit too hard in my chest. The feeling was disconcerting; unlike anything else I had experienced before, and I blamed it on the sudden surge of adrenaline.

What the hell was he doing to me? What was this sick game he was playing? Why couldn't he just leave us alone?

Each time I saw him, he managed to creep me out even more. But given Edward's history with James, I knew I couldn't tell him about my latest encounter with his _beloved_ ex-cousin; he was liable to have a coronary. For now, I had to keep this to myself.

The train arrived, and I got on, making sure to cast one last cautious look over my shoulder. When I saw no sign of James, I took another deep breath and closed my eyes in relief.

That evening as Alice picked me up from school, I felt much more relaxed. Trying to push James to the back of my mind, I smiled as I climbed into the passenger seat of her sports car.

"Look at you, looking all girlish in pink," I observed, admiring her very feminine ensemble.

She grinned. "You like?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. The color suits you."

"Thanks," she replied, satisfied with my answer.

"So, where to?"

"You'll see."

We drove for about half an hour through Chicago's evening traffic, chatting about this and that. I loved spending time with Alice; she had such a refreshing personality.

When she pulled through the massive iron gates at the Cullen mansion, I gave her a panicked look. "What's this?"

"The venue." She smiled sheepishly. "It was Carlisle's idea."

"Alice…" I began, shaking my head. "I can't."

"Why not?" She practically whined. "The mansion is the perfect place for a small wedding. There are so many rooms no one uses."

"I..." I trailed off, uncertain. The mansion was beautiful, but I didn't think I was going to feel comfortable having my wedding there. "Carlisle has enough on his plate. I don't want to intrude."

"You're not intruding. I already told you it was his idea." She looked at me with large, pleading eyes. "He needs the distraction, Bella."

Did I want this? Not really. But maybe she was right; maybe Carlisle needed a bit of happiness in his life. He had been really good to me; the least I could do was to return the favor.

"If you're sure…"

She clapped her hands enthusiastically. "I'm positive. Come on."

So, I went with her, and for the next couple of months we planned my wedding… with the reception allocated to the Cullens'.

_~~ 0 ~~_

_Saturday, December 1st. _

_Wedding Day._

I stood in the middle of the unfamiliar bedroom, staring at myself in the mirror. Was this really me wearing a wedding gown? I could hardly believe it. Amanda and her troop of stylists had done a wonderful job.

On the outside I looked so calm and statuesque, whereas on the inside I felt like I was going through a medley of emotions. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't really name a single dominant emotion because there were so many things happening simultaneously. I was anxious about the wedding ceremony and the celebration afterwards. I was afraid of the new life ahead of me and sad that I was saying goodbye to the old one. I was deliriously happy that I got to be Edward's forever. I was emotional and excited and confused and so many other things.

I took a deep, calming breath.

Everyone was still fussing about me, putting the final touches to my make-up and hair and dress. I placed my hand on my seven-month-old baby bump and closed my eyes for a moment. I could feel Matthew growing restless, and realized my agitation was getting to him, too. After weeks of debating, we had finally decided we were going to call him Matthew instead of Anthony. I had to admit the name was starting to grow on me. I smiled, willing myself to calm down some more.

When I opened my eyes, Kate was standing next to me.

"You look... words fail me to describe you right now," she said, tears swimming in her chocolate-brown eyes.

"I love you, Kate," I whispered, trying hard not to think about my parents and failing. God, I missed them so much. How I wished they could have been with me on the biggest day of my life.

"I love you, too, honey," she choked out, dabbing at her eyes with her ever-present handkerchief. "They would have been so proud."

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. I didn't want to cry; not today.

My eyes slid towards the window just in time to see that it had started snowing again. It was so peaceful.

I would have never thought I was going to have a winter wedding. December first was almost two and a half months since the engagement, but this date seemed to have worked out for everyone's agenda, including Mrs. Scott's, the wedding planner.

A soft knock on the door preceded Carlisle's shy entrance. "May I come in?"

I gave him my best smile. "Of course."

He looked dashing in a simple, black tux with matching waistcoat and tie. His handsome features had aged significantly since I'd first met him; the outcome of the trying curveball life had thrown him.

After all this time, there was still no sign of nutty Esme. The private investigator Emmett had hired was clueless; he had no leads. It made me wonder whether she was still alive or lying dead in a ditch somewhere. The mere thought made me shudder. And here I was making myself at home in her opulent palace. If only she knew...

"You look beautiful," he complimented with a secret smile, making himself comfortable on a nearby chair. "Edward is going to be rendered speechless."

"Thank you," I breathed, rubbing my stomach lovingly. "I'm a nervous wreck."

"It's only natural, my dear. Many of us only marry once in a lifetime. It's a big day." He tapped his chin, watching me closely, then nodded to my stomach. "How are you feeling today?"

I knew the meaning of his question. A couple of weeks before the wedding, I had discovered I was suffering from pre-eclampsia. The doctor had picked it up during one of my antenatal visits. She'd had me do a few routine tests and noticed the presence of protein in my urine. Another test revealed that my blood pressure was abnormally high, practically cementing the diagnosis. She hadn't been able to explain to me why this condition suddenly occurred, but she suspected it was because there was a problem with the proper development of the placenta, because the blood vessels that supplied it were faulty.

Edward had gone ballistic. He'd blamed my condition on wedding planning stress and insisted we cancel the whole thing. It had taken me _days_ to convince him the wedding wasn't going to put neither me nor the baby in any danger.

I shrugged and stuck out my foot to show Carlisle my swollen ankle. "I'm okay. I had my blood pressure checked again yesterday and the doctor said it was still high, but better, that the meds were doing their job… somewhat. And after the wedding I am to really take it easy."

He nodded in agreement. "Well, pre-eclampsia in pregnancy can be concerning, so, while I am excited for today, I know we'll all feel better when this stress and extra activity is over for you and the baby."

"Have the boys left for church?" Rosalie inquired, interrupting us. I had almost forgotten she was there.

In the last couple months she had been much more agreeable towards me, albeit a bit aloof; her usual rigid persona. But even I had to admit she was really making an effort. She was trying really hard to accept me as family, and honestly, I couldn't have asked for more.

"They have," Carlisle said. "That's why I'm here. We should be going, as well."

"I think we're done here," Paul, the stylist, announced, pulling a step back to take a better look at me.

I turned around and faced the many people in the room. They all smiled, including Rosalie, making me feel a little more confident.

"You are a sight to behold," Alice breathed, her hands clasped in front of her.

I smiled, accepting Carlisle's hand as he led me out of the spacious guest bedroom.

The drive to the church was silent, for the most part. I gazed out the window at the busy streets covered in fresh, pristine snow while Carlisle took a few phone calls. After a while, he placed his large hand on top of mine and offered me a reassuring smile.

"I hope you and Edward have a happy life together."

"I do, too," I replied sincerely. "Thank you for being so supportive."

The rented vintage car stopped in front of the imposing Holy Name Cathedral that seemed so out of place among the surrounding skyscrapers. The driver stepped out and opened my door while Carlisle rounded the car towards me. He wrapped my right arm around his left.

"Ready?"

I tried to rein in my emotions. "Ready."

He led me inside the church where friends, and family, and most importantly, Edward, were waiting. Mrs. Scott was standing at the entrance.

"Everyone is ready for you, my dear."

"Okay, thank you," I said softly, already starting to feel overwhelmed, but knowing it was important for me to stay as calm as possible.

Mrs. Scott bended at the waist, arranging my short train.

A young man began playing the pipe organ with great artistry. The grave universal hymn filled the air, and my heart skipped a beat. This was it. This right here was the moment that was going to change my life forever.

People were staring, but for once in my life, I actually enjoyed being in the spotlight. I was the bride; this was my day.

Carlisle walked me slowly up to the altar where Edward was standing stock-still, and I could tell he was just as nervous as me. His green eyes met mine, and for a brief moment everything around us disappeared. All the things I was feeling: the love, the complete devotion, the excitement, I could see reflected in the eyes of the man I cherished most.

His lips curved into a beautiful smile when his father gave me to him, and all I could do was to reply in kind. He looked so handsome.

"You are breathtaking," he whispered.

_Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry_… I repeated in my head like a mantra. Instead, I kept smiling, trying not to break down before the service even began.

The ceremony didn't last nearly as long as I had expected. Before I knew it, the reverend was proclaiming that the groom could kiss his bride. I beamed at my husband, relieved that it was over and I had even managed not to forget my vows. I was officially a married woman.

"I love you," Edward whispered reverently, kissing my lips so softly I could barely feel it. "...wife."

The appellative sounded so foreign yet so very _right._

"Say it again," I whispered back, my scalp prickling with pleasure. I could hear the audience applauding somewhere in the background, but my focus was on him.

He grinned knowingly. "Wife. My very beautiful, pregnant wife."

"I love you, too, husband," I replied, leaning in for another kiss.

This time he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me to him until our bodies were as flush as possible against each other. This kiss was so full of passion and unspoken promises, it almost made me swoon. Someone gave a low whistle, and I blushed, burying my face in Edward's neck.

"Come on you two," Angela spoke behind me, her tone amused. "I'm so ready to party, it's insane."

Later, at the party, I sat on Edward's lap as we discussed our plans for the night. We'd had to postpone our honeymoon in Japan because of my advanced pregnancy and pre-eclampsia, but that didn't mean we couldn't have a good time on American soil, as long as I didn't overdue it. Edward had booked a suite at _Waldorf Astoria _for our wedding night_, _and the next day, we were set to head over to the lakehouse Carlisle owned within two hour drive from Chicago.

"How are you feeling?" Edward inquired, caressing my protruding stomach. He had removed his jacket, and I ran my fingers over his broad shoulders, loving the way his light gray waistcoat hugged his body.

I reached his purple tie and tugged on it playfully. "I'm feeling fine, stop worrying. And I'm happy. I'm so very _very_ happy."

"Me too, baby," he said gently, his eyes full of love and adoration. "Me too. I never thought this day would ever come."

I kissed him softly, and he smiled against my lips.

Matthew kicked at his hand, and Edward chuckled. "He's getting restless, isn't he?"

He pressed lightly against my belly, and Matthew protested, kicking even harder. He was turning out to be such a little spitfire.

I let out a short laugh, placing my hand over Edward's. "Yeah, but that's my fault. I've been really agitated today, so I guess I passed my agitation on to him."

Edward frowned but decided not to push the subject. He began rubbing calming circles against my stomach, and eventually the kicks stopped.

"Jenks wants us to see another house when we come back from our short trip."

I smiled, looking forward to it. "Can't wait."

We'd seen a few houses in the last couple of months, but nothing seemed to fit the bill. Edward's friend and colleague, Jason Jenks, had offered to help, and we were more than happy to work with him.

"This dress is perfect for you, Mrs. Cullen," Edward murmured appreciatively, his voice suddenly low and filled with carnal insinuation. "I can't wait to get it off later."

"Mmmm," I hummed, stroking his silky tie and gazing up at him under my mascara-coated lashes. "Judging by how hot you look in a tux, I don't foresee me having a problem with that."

He was about to reply when Michael Bublé's _Everything _came through the speakers, and I hoisted myself from his lap, grabbing his hand. "I love this song! Let's dance."

He chuckled, following me onto the floor dutifully.

_And in this crazy life, and through these crazy times  
>It's you, it's you, you make me sing<br>You're every line, you're every word, you're everything..._

I sang along to Bublé's rich voice, my arms wrapped around my husband's neck. His jade eyes smoldered as they traveled over my face and modest cleavage. We moved to the light beat in slow unison.

For a little while I allowed myself to get lost in him. I stroked the soft hair at the nape of his neck, and he peppered gentle kisses against my lips, my cheekbone, my ear, my hair.

When the song changed to one I didn't recognize, I pulled back a bit to observe the other pairs dancing. Jasper and Alice were kissing while Kate and Garrett seemed to be sharing some private joke.

The sitting room looked completely transformed, decorated in rich shades of gold and pink. Without all the furniture, it had turned out to be larger than I could have ever imagined, hosting nine tables and forty-five guests. A few waiters dressed in beige and light blue outfits wandered between tables, carrying drinks and impeccably garnished plates.

Outside snow was falling thickly while inside the great marble fireplace was burning low; giving the general atmosphere the look and feel of a beautiful fairy tale. It was everything I could have imagined my dream wedding to be.

The song ended, and Edward pulled me towards our table. We passed Rosalie who was looking beautiful in a mauve one-shoulder dress and silver five-inch pumps. She glanced at our intertwined fingers and smiled a soft, understanding smile. Then she looked up and froze, her expression turning horrified in the span of two seconds.

A sense of dread rocked my entire body, and I inhaled sharply. Both Edward and I turned around, and the sight awaiting us made me weak at the knees instantly.

A mere twenty feet away stood Esme, her posture rigid as a board and her long dress a deep scarlet red. Her hair had been dyed black and cut in a sharp bob, and she appeared much more slender than the last time I'd seen her. She looked incredibly young and... different. But what shocked me more than the fact she had showed up at my wedding, was her company. Standing next to her, dressed smartly in a navy blue tuxedo and bowtie, stood James.

I gasped audibly, and James' expression turned downright malicious. His dark eyes burned into mine with such hatred, it made me want to run for the hills. For the first time since meeting him, I was terrified. Now I could see exactly what Edward had tried to warn me about all along. The man was pure evil.

"Good evening," Esme said; her voice confident and her attitude commanding.

"What the…" Edward trailed off, visibly taken aback by the unexpected turn of events.

"Esme?" Suddenly Carlisle and the rest of the family materialized beside us. "What is going on here?"

"What the hell are you doing with him, Mom?" Jasper demanded, looking pissed.

In the background the music went on playing, although no one was dancing anymore. All activity had ceased, and each and every pair of eyes in the room was fixed on the newcomers.

"What does it look like I'm doing, darling?" Esme answered, sounding serene. "I've come to the wedding. James here is my date."

Edward snapped out of his brief trance. "Are you fucking kidding me?" He all but snarled, his hands balling into fists. "You go missing for months and now you come to _my _wedding with fucking James? Are you out of your goddamned mind?"

"Who I date is none of your concern," Esme thundered, her stance changing rapidly. "And mind your tongue around your mother."

Edward took a menacing step forward. "You're _dating_ him?"

She jutted her chin out in defiance. "I am."

"We've been worried sick about you ever since you ran away from the clinic, and this whole time you were God knows where fucking James?" Emmett spoke; his voice eerily quiet. Rosalie looked like she was going to be sick as she clutched at her husband's arm for dear life. For a moment, I pitied her.

James smirked cockily. "I took her to Ibiza. I have to confess she wears that bikini quite well."

Before any of us knew what was happening, Edward launched himself at James and started throwing wild punches. I cried out in surprise, my hand flying to my mouth as I backed away a few steps.

Edward swung back, hitting James in the face and stomach, causing him to double over in pain. He managed to land a few damaging punches before being pulled back by his brothers. James clutched at his stomach as a frantic Esme ran to his aid.

"Let me go!" Edward shouted, enraged, fighting to wrench himself free. "I'll fucking kill him!"

The music stopped abruptly as a collective quiver of indignant murmurs filled the air. The guests were shocked.

"Edward, stop, please," I begged, hot tears streaming down my face. This was not supposed to happen on my wedding day.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Edward?" Esme screamed; her expression murderous as she helped James stand up straight. Blood dripped from his nose, and he dabbed at it with the back of his hand. He glared at Edward like he couldn't believe he had actually had the guts to attack him in the middle of a crowded room at his own wedding.

"What's wrong with me?" Edward hissed through clenched teeth. I had never seen him this mad. It was frightening. "What's wrong with _you_, Mother? How could you do this to Dad? To us…"

"I did nothing to any of you," Esme responded, looking like she was capable of just about anything. "I have the right to live my life as I see fit. Do I have to remind you who locked me away in that lunatic asylum? James saved me. He's the only one who cares."

I tried to wipe my tears, but my hands were trembling so badly they felt out of control. She had done it on purpose. She'd wanted her revenge and now she had it. My wedding was ruined, and both Edward and I were a mess. The entire family was hurt. Goal achieved.

A sharp jolt of pain traversed my upper right abdomen, and I gasped, placing my shaky hands on my baby bump. Kate was beside me in a nanosecond.

"Are you alright?" she asked, concerned.

I nodded, doing my best to ignore it as not to cause even more panic. I was definitely not alright.

"You clearly must be delusional if you think he cares about you," Edward spat, finally managing to free himself from his brothers' firm grasps. "He's only using you to get to me."

"Everything's not about you, Edward. You just hate seeing me happy, don't you?"

"You need help," Emmett boomed, standing at Edward's side. "And he needs to stay the fuck away from you." He pointed at James.

James' face wore a somewhat quizzical almost impertinent air. "She's mine now, and there's nothing you can do about it."

"This is low even for you, James," Jasper spoke, running a hand through his blond hair. He looked exasperated.

Carlisle, who up until that moment had been rendered speechless, found his voice. "I'm still her husband," he said firmly, staring James in the eye. "I'm the one responsible for her."

"You won't be for much longer," Esme shot back, her low voice taunting. "I already filed for divorce. You should be receiving the paperwork anytime now."

Carlisle blanched. "No."

"Dad…" Jasper said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"He doesn't care about you, Esme," Carlisle stated, his voice almost a plea. His blue eyes softened as he focused solely on her.

Esme remained impassive, her expression becoming, for a moment, devoid of any trace of emotion. "And you do?"

"You know I do."

She huffed, suddenly letting out a shrill laugh. "You're all pathetic. You all pretend to care about me, but none of you really do." Then she turned to Edward, her eyes blazing. "You chose this pathetic slut over me, and I hope she proves to be the worst thing that ever happened to this family. I hope she makes your life miserable, and I hope her wicked spawn never gets to be born. And if he _does_ get to be born, I hope he'll turn out just as deformed as her ugly soul."

Her words were so full of venom that I couldn't take it anymore. Everything was just too much. I broke down into a fit of sobs, wrapping my arms around myself protectively.

"No…" I whispered, leaning against Kate.

"I hate you," Esme seethed, staring at me with such satisfaction, it made me sicker than I already was, and I felt a sense of impending doom. "I hate all of you with a passion. And especially you,_ Isabella_."

"Esme…" Rosalie sobbed, looking like she was in shock. Beside her, Jessica was returning her grandmother's stare, her innocent eyes imbued with hatred.

"Rot in hell," Esme threw one last nasty insult before grabbing James' arm and dragging him towards the door. James cast the family a triumphant glance over his shoulder. It turned out; taking those punches had been worth it, after all.

Edward was beside me, his beautiful features twisted in fear. "Bella baby, you need to calm down," he soothed, pulling me into his strong arms. "Shhh. It's okay. She's gone. Forget what she said; she's mental."

"No, no, no," I repeated, shaking my head.

I couldn't just forget what she'd said about my son. I could bear anything but the thought of my little one being in harm's way. A sudden vision of a horribly deformed stillborn filled my brain, and I cried harder, causing my heart to race. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I realized I was getting hysterical, but I simply couldn't stop crying.

"Bella, please, settle down." I could hear Jasper's anxious voice, but was only vaguely aware of his proximity. "You'll hurt the baby."

"My baby," I choked, feeling my legs give out on me.

"Jasper!" Edward yelled desperately.

"Fucking hell, with her heightened anxiety her blood pressure must be through the roof," came his powerless reply. "She needs to calm down right this fucking minute."

"Call an ambulance," Edward demanded, holding me tight. "Now!"

"Ah!" I exclaimed, my sobs turning into an urgent cry as my vision blurred and a severe wave of nausea overtook me.

_Oh God..._

There was pressure in my abdomen and my back was slowly beginning to seize up, making me believe I might be experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions. It felt like the muscles inside were twisting to the point that it became uncomfortable and downright scary.

Someone pulled out a chair, and Edward had me sit on it as he crunched down in front of me. "What are you feeling?" he asked, distress written all over his face.

"It hurts a bit," I answered, grabbing hold of his forearm. "I think I'm having contractions. And my vision is funny… I just feel… wrong… heavy… kind of sick."

"The ambulance is on its way," Jasper announced, carelessly tossing his phone on the table. "Bella, take deep breaths and try to calm down."

"I can't," I whispered, my heart beating a frenzied beat. I felt like I was losing my breath. "Oh God, I can't."

People had gathered around me like I was some sort of frightening yet compelling experiment. I snapped my eyes shut and gritted my teeth, wishing for the ambulance to get there already.

Minutes later, two male paramedics rushed into the festive room. Before they could say anything, Jasper spoke up, "I'm a doctor. She has pre-eclampsia and is experiencing some concerning symptoms due to stress. I'm certain her BP is extremely high. We need to get her to the hospital immediately."

"Okay, thank you, Doctor," the medic said, as he and his partner quickly laid me down on a gurney and inserted an IV, then proceeded to treat me further. It was all happening so fast, I started to panic again.

"Edward," I wailed, desperately reaching for him.

"I'm here, baby," he said, his voice strangled with fear as he took my hand into his warm one. "I'm here."

"Matthew..."

His tormented eyes stared back at me, and I could read the anguish... the pure agony.

The paramedics began rushing the stretcher out of the room, and my hand slipped from Edward's.

* * *

><p><strong>AN Ummm... see you next time?**

**Thanks for sticking with me!**

**~ Andreea ~**


	34. Chapter 33: Determined

**A/N Midnight Cougar is the bestest! **

**This is a transitory chapter so a bit shorter than usual...**

**Enjoy?**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 33<strong>

**Edward POV**

* * *

><p><em>~ December 1st, 2012~<em>

_~~0~~_

_~~0~~_

_~~0~~_

Thirty-five minutes since Isabella had been rushed to Obstetrics, lying on that hideous stretcher. Time was ticking by at an agonizing pace. I'd been told to stay put, but the wait was killing me. I wanted to be with her. I wanted to hold her hand… comfort her… give her strength…anything but sit around doing nothing while she fought for our son's life on her own.

_God_, only the thought that there was a chance she could lose Matthew was enough to send me into frenzy.

I paced the sterile waiting room, fear and distress choking each breath I took. The tie I was wearing felt like a hangman's noose around my neck, and I loosened the knot before pulling it over my head and tossing it on a nearby chair. Emmett looked up from the message he was typing. His eyes swept over me with visible worry, and he frowned, but remained silent.

"What's taking so long?" I muttered, running a hand through my already chaotic hair and feeling like I was dangerously close to losing the last ounce of patience I still had left in me.

"Anytime now," Jasper replied quietly, staring out the window.

"Jas, can you find out what's keeping them?" I asked. "Please? I'm liable to do something stupid if someone doesn't come here and talk to me already."

He let out a soft sigh and nodded. "I'll see what I can do." He pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against, but before he could do anything Dr. Clark rounded the corner.

"How is she?" I rushed towards her, my heartbeat picking up speed abruptly.

"She's stable," Dr. Clark announced, tucking her hands into her coat's pockets. "We managed to lower her BP to safer limits, and her abdominal pain is gone, but she still has some swelling in the ankles and a headache."

"And the baby?"

"The baby's fine."

"Thank God," I breathed, closing my eyes for a split second and feeling as if an enormous weight had just been lifted off my chest. "Oh, thank God."

"She needs to take it easy, Mr. Cullen," she said, her voice taking a sharp edge. "No more stress. She was incredibly close to going into preterm labor. Next time she won't be so lucky."

"I understand," I murmured, the feeling of guilt that had been nagging at me since arriving at the hospital intensifying. I should have cancelled the wedding the moment I found out about Isabella's pre-eclampsia. None of this would have happened if I had the common sense to make the right decision at the right time.

"I sure hope you do because we've had a similar conversation before. Now she'll have to be put on bed rest in order to lower her blood pressure and increase blood flow to her placenta, giving the baby time to mature. She'll need to limit her day to day activities to a minimum. I'm also going to prescribe her some anticonvulsive medication to prevent a potential seizure, and I want to see her a few times a week for check-ups."

I nodded, suddenly angry with myself for letting Isabella have her way with the wedding. I should've known better. "Can I see her?"

"Yes, room 301." She gestured in the direction she'd come from moments earlier. "And please remember, Mr. Cullen… no more stress."

"Yes, of course," I said with a stiff nod and excused myself.

Walking down the narrow hallway with hurried steps, I found room 301 almost immediately. I knocked softly before entering. My eyes fell on Isabella, and my knees almost gave out on me at seeing her in that hospital bed. She'd been put on an IV drip; all color drained from her face.

"Hey," she said hoarsely, her smile tentative as she sat up a little.

"Hi, baby," I breathed, rapidly closing the distance between us. I sat on the bed and leaned over to kiss her lips gently, placing my hands on each side of her.

"I could have lost Matthew," she whispered, her lower lip trembling.

"No, no, no," I said, rubbing my nose against hers in what I hoped to be a comforting gesture. "Don't think like that. Matthew's going to be fine."

A tear slid down her cheek quickly followed by another, and I felt like a horrible person for having allowed this to happen to her. I would've given anything not to see her so feeble and utterly defenseless against this suffering she'd been put through.

When I was younger, I used to consider myself the master of my own destiny. I used to think I was the architect of my fate, that I could just design my own little perfect bubble and live in it forever. To this day, it still amazed me how naïve I'd been, telling myself pretty lies to cover up the grotesque and unquestionable veridicality of real life. My first reality check-up had been Tanya's death, and now this whole pointless drama surrounding my family.

The thing was, I could handle my family's psychotic behavior, but not_ this_. I could bear anything but this inevitable disaster that seemed to have followed my wife and unborn son like a fucking omen since the very beginning. It was breaking me that I'd been unable to stop the downward spiraling course of the latest events. Sometimes I wished I could stop life from happening.

"I hate her. I hate her so much, Edward," Isabella sobbed, her small hands clutching her stomach protectively, and I felt my brows draw together.

The fact that she was referring to my mother made my inner tumult of anger and disbelief even more unbearable. For a moment, I didn't even know what to say.

_Sorry my mother turned out to be the lunatic everyone had tried to warn me about?_

_I should have hired better security for the wedding and banned her from entering her own home?_

How the hell was I supposed to guess she was going to show up and say the nasty things she'd said? I didn't own a damn crystal ball.

But the thing I felt most guilty about was not cancelling the wedding. It would have spared us all the spectacle and its consequences.

For now I decided not to dwell on that train of thought and keep my sanity for a little longer. My focus was Isabella, and I forced myself to concentrate on her rather than the consuming hatred I felt towards my own mother. She and I were done. Forever. I didn't even want to understand her motives. I didn't care she was sick. To me she had ceased to exist when she set foot at my wedding.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for what she said," I whispered, not daring to look her in the eye. I swallowed hard, concentrating on her collarbone instead. "I never would've thought she was capable of such malice. The things she said… what she did… Jesus, I can't even think about it."

"I'll never forgive her, Edward. _Ever_. I don't care she's disturbed. She's evil and she's never going to be a part of my son's life."

"I know," I assented. I wiped her tears away, and she shook her head.

"And her sleeping with James… How could she do that? He's almost your age, Edward."

I froze with my hand on her warm cheek. "Please don't." Sitting up, I directed my gaze towards the window, my jaw set. "Don't even mention that fucking _sleazeball_ to me. I swear to God I'm going to make him pay for all the shit he's pulled. He's a dead man; mark my words."

James was a hard limit, and I didn't want to take my frustration out on her. She needed her rest, and I was certain my going ballistic in her hospital room wasn't going to help. In my mind, I'd already drawn a detailed plan of his impending punishment. James Hall was going to regret ever crossing my path, and I couldn't wait to see him fall into the pit he'd dug for himself when he decided messing with me was a good idea.

Isabella sighed heavily. "You don't have to stoop to his level."

"Oh, believe me, I do. This time he's gone too far. Someone needs to teach him a lesson."

One of her hands reached for mine. "Please don't do anything you might regret."

Before I could respond there was a knock on the door and Kate's head poked in. "I'm sorry; I just couldn't wait in the hallway anymore. I had to see her."

"Kate," Isabella whispered, holding out her free hand.

"Oh, honey," Kate said, eyes full of concern as she approached the bed and took Isabella's hand. "How are you feeling? You look so pale."

I got up to give them some room and walked over to the window while Kate took my vacant seat on the edge of the bed. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked at them. Kate was still wearing her long, purple dress, while Isabella now had on one of those hideous hospital gowns.

"I'm okay, I guess. The doctor said I'll feel much better after a few hours of sleep."

"Oh, right." Kate's eyes slid over to me. "We should let you sleep then."

Isabella shook her head, following her gaze. "Stay a little. I don't want to be alone."

"I'm not going anywhere," I promised firmly, knowing there was no chance in hell I was leaving her side.

Isabella sighed, pushing herself a bit higher. "This bed is so uncomfortable. I'd much rather be at _Waldorf Astoria_."

"I'll make it up to you. I promise."

"You'd better." She smiled gently.

"I should send everyone home," Kate said, sitting up.

"That's a good idea." I nodded. "I'll stay the night with her."

"Edward, you don't have to," Isabella said.

"I want to. I'd never leave you alone."

She looked like she wanted to argue with me, but wisely decided against it. "Who's here?" she inquired instead.

"Both of Edward's brothers, Angela, Ben, and Mr. Cullen," Kate replied, already headed for the door. "Alice and Rosalie stayed with the guests. I'll be right back," she added over her shoulder before exiting.

"You should lie down if you plan on staying all night." Isabella patted the bed next to her.

"Later," I murmured, peering into a paper cup sitting idly on the nightstand. "Shouldn't you be taking these?" I pointed to the couple of blue pills inside.

She frowned. "Oh, I guess you came in and I forgot about them."

"Isabella," I scolded in a hard voice, handing her the cup and a bottle of water.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "But Edward, you must be tired; it's after midnight. You should lie down."

I waited until she swallowed the pills before answering. "I'm okay."

"How's your back?"

"My back is fine, Bella." I told the little lie without batting an eyelash, not wanting to worry her any more than she was already. In truth, I felt a bit of pain in my tailbone as a result of the strain I'd put on it when punching James. But she didn't need to know that. "I'm fine, really."

"I'm just worried about you," she said softly, her brown eyes impossibly large on her pale face.

"Don't be," I replied, sitting beside her. Leaning over, I kissed her forehead. "I love you."

She sighed, closing her eyes. "I love you, too."

Later, after Isabella fell asleep, I headed into the hallway, closing the door behind me softly. Pulling out my phone, I dialed Jenks. He picked up after a few long rings.

"Jenks, sorry for calling at this hour," I greeted, leaning against the closest wall and running a hand through my mess of a hair. A young nurse carrying clean, white towels passed me by, and her gaze lingered on my face a little more than appropriate. She smiled, lowering her eyes to the floor and quickening her pace. Were the circumstances different, I would have been amused.

"Edward, man, is Isabella all right?" Jenks rushed, his voice gritty with sleep. "No one knew anything when we left the reception."

"Yeah, both she and the baby are fine. Listen, I need a favor."

"Sure," he said, not missing a beat. "Anything."

"I need you to dig up dirt on someone called James Hall. He's the motherfucker who crashed my wedding. I want to ruin him, so the dirtier the better. I know you have connections in the right places."

"You got it," he replied, and I could feel his grin at the prospect of being assigned for something so exciting.

"Be quick about it."

_~~ 0 ~~_

The next afternoon, I was guiding Isabella into our condo. After a sleepless night in the hospital, I was incredibly grateful to be home, and tried not to think about our ruined honeymoon.

"Easy," I said, keeping my hold on her waist firm.

"Despite what the good doctor might've told you, I'm not made of glass," she replied, looking up at me with gentle eyes.

"Well no, you're not made of glass, but you're fragile and I'm going to treat you as such." I frowned, tossing the bag with her wedding gown on the floor and crouching down in front of her to remove her sneakers. "I don't want to hear another word of complaint out of you."

"You just love bossing people around, don't you?" she teased, her hands pressed onto my shoulders for balance.

"You knew that when you agreed to marry me. Now you're stuck with me," I shot back grumpily. Stress combined with sleep deprivation was really getting to me.

She smiled broadly, her expression brightening. "I guess I am, Mr. Cullen." She shoved her left hand in my face, her engagement and wedding rings shining in the afternoon light coming from the kitchen.

I chuckled quietly, shaking my head. Her good mood was infectious. "Bed, Mrs. Cullen."

"Can I opt for the couch instead?" She batted her lashes at me sweetly.

"No," I said firmly, straightening up.

"But, Edward…"

"You need to rest." I took her hand, leading her towards the master bedroom, and she sighed heavily.

"I can rest on the couch."

I threw her a warning look over my shoulder. "Dr. Clark said bed, and I have every intention of following her exact instructions. Don't test me."

"Fine," she huffed.

Once in the bedroom, I helped her remove her hoodie then lie down on the bed.

"Susan should be here any minute." I pulled the duvet over her, making sure to tuck in her feet. "What would you like to eat?"

"Mmmm…" She thought for a minute. "Something light… maybe chicken salad or soup..."

"I'll have her make both," I said, starting to walk away.

"Where are you going?" She looked at me curiously.

I motioned to the gray tux I was still wearing, sans tie. "To take a shower and change clothes."

"I'd like that, too. I feel… greasy." Her nose wrinkled as she glanced down at herself.

"_You_ are going to take a nice warm bath that I'll fix as soon as I get out of the shower. Sound good?"

She smiled warmly. "Yes, thank you."

Closing the distance between us again, I bent and kissed her lips. She tasted of meds, and I hated it. "Anything for my beautiful wife."

Later that evening, as I was coming out of my study, the intercom buzzed.

"Hey, Dorian, I'll call you later," I said into the phone. "Thanks for the advice."

"_Anytime,"_ he replied before hanging up.

Walking into the foyer, I pressed a button to answer the call coming from the front desk. "Yes, Peter?"

"_Sir, your father's here to see you."_

I stared at the wall in front of me, caught off guard. Suddenly I was worried. Had something happened? Had Mother showed up again?

"Send him up," I said eventually.

A minute later, I was ushering him in.

"Hey. I hope I'm not intruding." He looked casual, dressed in khakis and a navy button-down with matching coat.

"No, no, of course you're not," I assured him, taking a step back. "Come on in."

"How's Isabella?" he inquired softly, glancing around briefly before removing his coat.

I took it from him, hanging it in the nearby closet. "Sleeping. She's doing better."

"I'm glad to hear that." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking strangely uncomfortable. "I was in the area and thought I would stop by and see how she's doing."

"Have a drink with me?" I gestured towards the living area.

He nodded. "Sure."

"Whiskey?" I asked as I walked behind the bar and pulled out a bottle of _Jefferson's._

"Two fingers on the rocks," he replied smiling, taking a seat on the couch.

"I know how you like it, Dad," I chuckled, procuring two glasses.

I poured the drinks, handing my father his. He took a sip, his tired eyes wandering over to the floor-to-ceiling windows. He was silent for what felt like a long time. I sat opposite of him, waiting.

"I also wanted to talk to you about your mother," he said so softly I probably wouldn't have heard him if the room wasn't so eerily quiet.

I felt the blood rise to my face with indignation. "I hope you understand I can't bring myself to give a fuck about her right now," I gritted, my temper flaring. "My priority is my wife and my unborn child."

He sighed, and I could tell from his expression he'd been expecting this reaction from me. "I know, but son…"

"What she did…" I interrupted, gripping my glass with a little more force than necessary, "...it makes me so fucking mad I can't even think much less _speak _about it."

"She's sick," he said, his voice almost resigned.

"I don't give a shit," I spat. "Let James take care of her."

"I'm not asking you to forgive her." He leaned forward with his elbows resting on the tops of his thighs. "I just want her to get the help she needs. She's still my wife and your mother."

I shook my head, practically tossing my glass on the coffee table with a loud clank. I was getting angrier with each passing second. "Ask Em or Jasper. I can't… I just can't. I'm too angry to be of any help. I'll only make things worse."

Dad looked at me for a long moment, unseeing. He seemed to be pondering something.

"You're right, I'm sorry." He let out a breath he'd been holding for too long, his shoulders dropping. "I shouldn't have asked this of you. You have enough on your plate right now."

"Dad…" I paused, looking for the right words. "You need to let go. She's not the woman you married. She's not my mother. I don't know who the hell she is anymore. Get her the help she needs and let her go."

"It's not easy, you know." He chuckled bitterly, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Esme's been my wife for over forty years. I may not be in love with her anymore, but I still have a lot of love for her."

"I know, Dad," I said with a frown. For the first time in a long while I was actually feeling sorry for him. He didn't deserve this any more than we did.

"I'm sorry for coming here; I didn't mean to ruin your evening. Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking."

"You're always welcome to stop by. Don't feel bad about it."

He took another sip of his whiskey then glanced around the living room. "Would you mind if I stayed a little? I don't feel like going home just yet."

"Join me for dinner?" I offered, standing.

He stood as well, abandoning his glass on the coffee table next to mine. "And Isabella?"

"I don't want to wake her up just yet. She needs her rest."

_~~ 0 ~~_

I stepped out of the car, pushing the door shut. The mansion's surroundings looked pretty much deserted except for my father's Bentley and a black sedan I didn't recognize. A thin layer of snow covered the pavement and the rose bushes nearby the entrance. Pulling up my coat's sleeve, I checked the time, seeing it was half past six. _Just in time for Miriam's dessert._

I'd gathered from seeing the unknown car parked outside that my father was having someone over for dinner, and I hoped I wasn't intruding. As I neared the front door, loud noises coming from the inside reached my ears. There was a bang, quickly followed by a deafening crash and shouting.

_Shouting?_

I stood, dumbfounded, with my hand suspended in the air, wondering what the hell was going on. After a moment, I decided to skip ringing the doorbell and grabbed the massive knob, opening the door.

"...think about it..." Dad was yelling hoarsely. "Do you even know what you're doing?"

"Oh, I know damn well what I'm doing, Carlisle." I heard my mother's venomous voice. "I'm leaving you, and there nothing you can do to stop me."

I stopped dead in my tracks, barely a couple of steps into the foyer._This_ I hadn't seen coming.

"I'm not signing those divorce papers," Dad threatened, and I listened attentively, my breath caught in my throat.

"Yes, you are," she hissed.

"You are mentally disturbed; no judge in the world is going to grant you this divorce."

She let out a shrill laugh, followed by another inanimate object crashing to the hard floor. "You clearly don't know me at all. I can ruin you, Carlisle."

Suddenly, I was furious. How dared she come in here and threaten Dad like he hadn't been by her side for the last forty-something years? How fucking dared she; after everything she'd done?

My legs carried me towards the sitting room, and I pushed the slightly ajar double doors with such force, they slammed into the wall.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I boomed, and they both turned around to face me.

Dad looked surprised, while Mother didn't even bother to wipe the pissed-off expression from her face.

"And here comes the prodigal son," she shot back sarcastically, waving her hand in my direction.

I was standing in front of her in three large steps. I gripped her arm so hard; I suspected I was going to leave bruises. She didn't even flinch. Her eyes burned into mine with such hatred, it sent a chill down my spine. But I wasn't going to back down.

"Hey, hey." Dad interfered, placing his hand on my shoulder firmly. "Edward, son, let's calm down."

"Haven't you had enough?" I hissed, ignoring him and squeezing her arm even tighter. "You almost caused Isabella to lose our son. You ruined our wedding. You cheated on Dad. What more do you want from us?"

She struggled to free herself to no avail; I wasn't letting go. "I want _all_ of you to feel the pain I felt when I found myself emotionally and literally abandoned by my entire family."

"No one abandoned you, stop with the guilt trip bullshit already."

"She's going to make you miserable. It's not too late to lea-"

"No!" I yelled, cutting her off abruptly. "I won't hear you denigrate Isabella anymore. She's my _wife_ now. She matters, you don't. Not after the shit you pulled."

Her face twisted in pain from where my fingers were digging into her skin, but she went on. "She's got you twi—"

"Fucking enough," I gritted through clenched teeth, shaking her roughly. I was so incredibly angry; I couldn't even bring myself to care that I was manhandling my own mother.

"Edward!" Dad shouted, pulling me backwards. "Let her go!"

I eventually did, and she stumbled back a couple of steps as she rubbed the pads of her fingers against the sore spot.

"You listen to me." I was fuming as I pointed a finger at her threateningly. "From this day forward, you do not consider yourself my mother anymore; you are fucking dead to me. You stay away from Dad and this family. Do I make myself clear?"

"You don't tell me what to do, you ungrateful, insolent brat," she spat, glaring at me. Every fiber in her posture screamed hostility.

I inhaled sharply, fighting to keep myself in check. My jaw was set so hard I could practically _hear_ my teeth grit. "You are testing every ounce of restraint I have left. Take what you want and leave this house. Don't ever come back."

She jutted her chin out defiantly. "Or what?"

She was baiting me, saying things she knew were going to make me lose it. For some sick reason, she seemed to enjoy seeing me so incensed.

"Or I'll come back here and kick you out myself," I replied pointedly.

She snorted unceremoniously like I'd just told her a flat joke. "You can't do that. This is my house, _my_ home."

"It stopped being your home when you decided to run away with your psychotic lover. You two deserve each other, and I hope he makes your life a living hell. Now, if we're done here, you should leave. I'm guessing that motherfucker is waiting for you."

One minute she was seething a few feet away, and the next she was in my face, her hand inches from my left cheek. I grabbed it just in time to stop the mother of all slaps.

"Get out," I growled, pushing her violently past the double doors and into the foyer.

"Son, please!" I heard my father's desperate plea, but was only vaguely aware of his presence.

"Get the fuck out before I do something we'll both regret. Leave and take your poison with you. This family is better off without your manipulative schemes."

I gave her one last shove, and she tripped over her feet, falling onto a nearby armchair. She managed to look both shocked and infuriated. For a brief second, even _I_ was appalled with my behavior. She was making me lose my goddamned mind.

She stood, straightening her dress and smoothing a hand over her hair. "You'll pay for this, Edward. You'll soon get more than just a taste of what I'm capable of doing to those who wrong me." Her voice was so lethally quiet, I believed her. She wasn't going to let this go. "This isn't the last you've heard of me."

Then she spun on her stiletto heels and stormed out the front door, slamming it behind her with such force, the sound resonated through the entire house.

I was breathing heavily as I glared at the door. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd been so pushed-to-violence mad.

Slowly, I became aware of my father's presence again. Turning to him, I noticed he was standing motionless; his blue eyes empty as he looked through me.

"Sign the divorce papers," I said firmly, clenching and unclenching my fists a few times.

He snapped out of his reverie. "Son..."

"You heard me. If you still want to have me and my family in your life, you'll sign those papers," I informed him, fully aware it was a low blow. "She doesn't deserve help."

Not giving him a chance to answer, I opened the door and stepped out, heading for my car. I left in a hurry, Miriam's dessert long forgotten.

_~~ 0 ~~_

When I got home, Isabella was sitting up in bed, watching _Iron Man _on her laptop. I had managed to calm down some on the drive home, but not entirely, and hoped she wasn't going to notice my current state of agitation.

"Hey." I shrugged off my jacket, tossing it on the back of a chair.

She smiled at me sweetly, hitting the spacebar to pause the movie. "Hey. Where were you? It's after seven."

I sat on the bed, proceeding to remove my shoes. "I went to check on Dad."

"How is he?" she inquired, her curiosity genuine.

"He's fine," I replied vaguely, deciding she didn't need to know what had transpired between Mother and I. "Has Susan left? I told her not to leave until I was back."

"No, I just sent her downstairs with some desert for Peter. She made that carrot cake you like so much."

I frowned down at the shoelace that wouldn't untie. "I see."

"Are you okay?" Isabella asked tentatively. "You look... troubled. Did something happen at your father's?"

"Nothing happened, and I'm okay," I answered, struggling with the shoelace and trying to keep my voice level. "I'm just tired; I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Did _I_ keep you up?"

I sighed, my eyes sweeping over to hers. "You were a bit restless in your sleep, yes. And you know how I worry; I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

She arched a delicate eyebrow at me. "You stayed up all night watching me?"

"Maybe," I murmured, reaching under the thick duvet to rub her swollen ankle.

"Oh, Edward..." she breathed with a small frown.

"It's the only thing I _can_ do; the rest is up to your body." I placed my right foot back on the floor, angling myself towards her. "I feel so guilty for what happened at the wedding."

"Stop it," she said more firmly, pushing the laptop to the side. "It wasn't your fault. I won't accept you feeling guilty over something you had no control over. No one could've ever predicted Esme was going to crash the party."

"And with fucking James at that..." I muttered, trying hard not to remember the utter shame and humiliation I'd felt at seeing them together. But most of all, I'd felt fucking betrayed. I had been stabbed in the back by my mother; the same woman I'd so fiercely defended when no one would. And to think that I'd almost been on the verge of ruining my relationship with Isabella because of her - I couldn't fathom what I had been thinking.

Even I had to admit I could be a real idiot at times.

"Yeah, that was a real shocker," Isabella spoke softly. It was the first time, since the wedding, that we were acknowledging the big elephant trampling our lives. "I'm sorry for not listening to you. You tried to warn me about James so many times."

"Now it's pretty irrelevant." I waved a hand dismissively. "We all saw what he is capable of. But he won't come close to you ever again. I'll make damn sure of that."

"What do you mean?" She looked at me questioningly before a sudden dark thought crossed her mind. "Edward, please don't do anything stupid."

"Do I look like a stupid person to you?" I snapped, a bit harsher than I'd intended. This day was taking its toll on me.

"That's not what I meant," she replied quietly, taken aback by my reaction. "I just know how bad-tempered and impulsive you can get. I don't want you to put yourself at risk because of him. He's not worth it."

I nodded, letting out a long breath. Suddenly I felt bad. She didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of my anger and frustration.

"I have this under control," I said in a softer tone of voice, resuming rubbing her ankle. "I know what I'm doing. Trust me."

She shook her head. "I trust you, Edward. What I don't trust is your self-control when you're around him."

"I have no intention of ever being around him again," I replied, and she looked at me skeptically.

"Do I even want to know what you're planning?"

I shrugged, standing. "I'll tell you when the right time comes." I leaned over and kissed her forehead. "But for right now, I want you not to worry, just rest and take care of yourself and our son."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Three weeks later, on Christmas Eve, I helped Isabella climb into the passenger seat of my BMW. Alice had finally moved in with Jasper only a few days prior, and they were having the entire family over for a celebratory dinner.

"Are you sure about this, sweetheart?" I asked, uncertain.

Isabella rolled her eyes at me petulantly. "Dr. Clark said it's fine."

"I know what she said, but..."

"I'll be okay; stop fretting." She sighed, exasperated, folding her legs into the car. "This constant worry of yours is starting to wear me down."

I closed her door, rounding the car and getting behind the wheel. "I'm sorry, but I can't help it. I need to make sure nothing happens to you or the baby. I can't lose either of you, Bella. I'd never forgive myself."

She leaned over the gearshift to kiss my lips as her fingers ran through my hair. "You're not going to lose us, honey."

I turned to her, touching her protruding stomach. "Sometimes this intense longing to feel him and hold him in my arms seizes my entire body."

She smiled, her expression understanding. "And you'll get to do that in a couple of months. Please, I'm begging you, stop with the worry already. It's going to turn you grey at thirty-five."

I shook my head, my lips curving upwards. "I think I already spotted a few gray hairs the other day."

Isabella chuckled, dragging her lips from my mouth to my cheek and finally lingering on my neck. "I miss you."

She peppered soft, seductive kisses just under my jaw, and I closed my eyes, feeling myself hardening in the confines of my jeans. I groaned, my hand drifting from her stomach to her thigh. I kneaded the flesh there, searching for her mouth again. We kissed for a minute, and when she began fumbling with my zipper, I pulled back, stopping her.

"Not gonna happen anytime soon," I breathed; my hand firm on her wrist.

She looked at me incredulously, her brown eyes ardent with lust. "Are you really not going to touch me until after the baby is born?"

I swallowed hard, turning to face the wheel and ignoring her question. That was exactly what I intended, even though the doctor assured us it was all right in slow, gentle moderation. "We should get going; we don't want to be late."

She huffed and grumbled something unintelligible before reaching for her seatbelt. She pouted for a little while, then reached for the radio and flipped through stations before finally settling on a Christmas carol sang by a children's choir.

The rest of the drive was silent except for the radio. At some point, Isabella inhaled sharply like she was about to speak, but quickly changed her mind. When I looked over at her, she just smiled and shook her head, and I got the distinct feeling she wanted to ask about my mother but didn't dare.

I hadn't heard anything from her since our confrontation at the mansion, and hoped she was enjoying wasting her life away with James. I felt calmer in a way, being relieved of the burden of always having to worry about her. I was living my new life with Isabella, while she was throwing hers away for a man not even half my father's worth. And I was fine with that. For the first time in my life, I was okay with my separation from her. It made me feel so much more in charge of the path I had chosen to follow.

I'd sacrificed so much for her, and the only thing I got in return was her hatred and maniacal vengeance. She'd stolen Isabella's big day and deprived us both of our honeymoon. She'd ruined the only opportunity my son had of being spoiled by a loving, caring grandmother. She was an awful person, and I was ashamed to call her 'Mother'. Focusing exclusively on my growing family was my newfound purpose, and she didn't fit anywhere in my future.

By the time we reached Jasper's apartment building, the sun had already set. We took the elevator to the eleventh floor, where his condo occupied half of the entire space. I knocked on the door, and almost immediately we were greeted by a grinning Alice.

"Hey, guys, come on in." She ushered us in enthusiastically. "Gosh, Bella, you look so good... really healthy."

"I have my overprotective husband to thank for that." Isabella chuckled, squeezing my upper arm playfully.

The air smelled of pot roast and baked sweets, and I inhaled deeply. I'd skipped lunch, so I was pretty much famished.

"Bella!" Jess came out of nowhere, rushing towards Isabella. She wrapped her arms around her, and Isabella's chuckle turned into a carefree laugh.

"Easy, Jess," Rosalie scolded from where she was standing in the living room's threshold with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Sorry." Jess pulled back with a sheepish grin, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. She'd matured so much in the past year, and I was surprised to notice she was wearing light makeup. "How's baby Matthew?"

Isabella sighed contently, placing a hand on her stomach. "He's growing stronger every day."

"Little bro!'" Emmett boomed, appearing behind Rosalie and wrapping a large arm around her waist. Rosalie cracked a smile, reaching up to touch his face in a loving gesture.

"Hi, Em." I chuckled, his enthusiasm as entertaining as ever.

"And my favorite preggo lady." He winked at Isabella, nodding his head towards the living room. "Come, I'll fix you something good to drink."

"No alcohol, I hope," I said as Isabella shrugged off her coat, passing it over to Alice.

Emmett stared at me like I'd just sprouted a second head. "I'm not retarded."

"Could've fooled me," I shot back with a teasing smile.

Isabella walked over to him, and he flipped me the finger. "Asshole."

I laughed, and he let go of his wife, placing his arm across Isabella's shoulders and leading her out of sight.

Jess grinned up at me. "Hi, Uncle Eddie."

"Hey, you."

"I made you something," she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards the kitchen with large, determined steps.

"Okay." I followed dutifully. "How's that boyfriend of yours?"

She groaned, throwing me a nasty glare. "Not this again. I already told you I don't have a boyfriend."

I laughed quietly. "If you say so."

Much later, after dinner had been served and savored, my cell rang, pulling me from a conversation I was having with my younger brother. Excusing myself, I stood from the table. I headed into the hallway, followed closely by Isabella's inquisitive eyes.

"Jenks," I answered promptly.

The sound of merry voices and clinked glasses filled my ears before my friend's almost giddy voice spoke on the other end of the line.

"Edward, my man, you won't believe what I just found out about Hall."

* * *

><p><strong>AN For teasers check out TPB group on FB!**

**Thanks for reading and reviewing! I love you all!**

**~ Andreea ~**


	35. Chapter 34: Retributive

**A/N Thank you, Mid Night Cougar, for beta'ing and always being so prompt! ilovealion has helped with the medical details, so thank you again!**

**Happy New Year, dear readers! I wish you a fabulous 2014!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 34<strong>

**Isabella POV**

* * *

><p><em>~ December 24th 2012 ~<em>

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

"Who was it?" I asked quietly as Edward retook his seat beside me, placing his phone on the table. He looked like he had just received some really good news.

His eyes met mine, the ghost of a smile touching his lips. "It was Jenks. He had some news to share."

"Oh?" I gave him a questioning look. Then, all of a sudden, understanding dawned on me. "Why do I get the feeling it has something to do with James?"

"Because it does," he replied, giving my hand a brief, reassuring squeeze. "I'll fill you in when we get home."

"Mom called," Jasper announced, taking all of us by surprise, and interrupting the dubious stare I was giving my husband.

_Husband_... I still hadn't gotten used to how giddy and warm all over calling him that actually made me feel.

Across the table, Emmett frowned. "When?"

Jasper sighed, slouching back into his seat as if sharing that little piece on information was enough to drain him. "A couple of days ago."

Emmett looked around, briefly searching everyone's faces. "Am I the only one hearing about this now?"

When every head in the room shook in silent answer, Jasper looked abashed. "I didn't want any of you to stress over this situation more than you already have," he murmured, glancing at Edward apprehensively.

"What did she want?"Carlisle inquired, trying to look unaffected and failing miserably. He looked as broken as he was.

I felt bad for him; he had such a big heart. Esme didn't deserve his concern or the love he obviously still had for her. She was batshit crazy, and I hoped I never had to see her again. Edward had promised me she was out of our lives for good, and I prayed to God that was true. Because of her, just thinking of my wedding day made me want to throw up. She was a horrible person, but somehow I got the feeling that in the end she was going to get what she deserved.

Jasper gave a one shoulder shrug, managing to shake his head at the same time. "What she has always wanted lately… to turn us against each other."

Beside me, Edward let out a rude snort. "I swear to God I would have never imagined she would turn out so fucking insane."

"Edward, son..." Carlisle started gently."I know she's wronged you in so many ways, maybe more than she ever wronged any of us, but please don't turn your back on her. She needs our help, now more than ever."

"Dad, stop... just fucking stop already. Stop trying to make me feel sorry for her, because it's not working. I've had it with Mother and her crazy schemes and ploys. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm really fucking tired of feeling like her goddamned puppet. Enough is enough. I have a wife and an unborn child who need me, and I plan on dedicating myself to them completely."

"He's got a point, Dad," Emmett cut in, nodding in Edward's direction. "Bella doesn't need that kind of stress."

Edward went on, ignoring his brother's intervention. "Dad, I love you, but I just can't be of any help right now; my family has to be my first priority. I know she's my mother too, but let's face it... she's never been a good parent. I tried; I _really_ tried to be a good son and make her proud of me, but nothing I ever did was good enough for her. I'm done trying to prove myself to her or anyone else for that matter."

Carlisle looked troubled. "I know," he said quietly, rubbing a hand over his face. "I know, and I'm sorry. I can't... I can't seem to let her go."

"I just want some peace in my life." Edward's voice was softer this time. He, just like the rest of the family, realized how much of a hard time his father was actually having with the separation. It was disturbing, seeing a man of Carlisle's caliber suffer over someone as frivolous and unworthy as Esme.

Jasper cleared his throat nervously. "Edward is right. Maybe we should _all_ let her go. She's chosen her path and she's making no apologies for her actions. She made it perfectly clear she doesn't need any of us."

"Then why is she still calling you, or Dad, or Rose?" Emmett queried, giving his youngest brother a harsh look.

Edward blanched. "She called you?" he asked Rosalie, and I could read the worry behind those dark green eyes of his. Rosalie's vulnerability, when it came to Esme, was something to behold, and that didn't sit well with any of us. I guessed Edward still feared that one day his beloved sister-in-law might succumb to her manipulations again.

Rosalie let out a heavy, almost pained breath. "Yeah, but I didn't answer. I couldn't."

"We can't abandon her. She may not want our help, but she needs it," Emmett stated, draping a strong arm around his wife's shoulders. "We'll leave Edward out of it, but Mom's still fucking sick. Do you even think about that, Jasper?"

Jasper shook his head disapprovingly. "She'll never agree to being put in a mental hospital again, especially for an extended period of time. Committing her against her will, for a second time around, seems just wrong to me."

"She's a danger to herself and she needs it, Jas," Emmett stressed, glaring at his brother from across the table.

"No, she's not. Her therapist would've never even _thought_ about letting her go if she was, and yet he planned on doing just that before she pulled that escape bullshit. Besides, you forget who Hall's father is. That man could have her out of any mental institution in the State of Illinois if he really wanted to."

I frowned, turning to Edward who stared straight ahead, unseeing. "What did he mean by that?" I inquired in a hushed voice.

"He meant that Friedrich Hall is head of psychiatry at Rush University and is very well connected in the medical world," Alice whispered from beside me, having overheard my question to Edward.

"Oh..." I exhaled, not having expected that particular answer.

"Then what, we forget all about her?" Emmett asked, giving his brother an incredulous look.

"I don't know, Em," Jasper said more quietly, his brow furrowing. "Maybe we should just let her live her life the way she wants to."

"I signed the divorce papers," Carlisle announced abruptly, and every pair of eyes in the already tense dining room turned to him.

"What?" Emmett and Jasper spoke at the same time, pulled from their heated conversation.

Carlisle's eyes locked with Edward's for a few seconds, and I got the strange feeling he was trying to communicate something. "I thought maybe if I gave her what she wanted, she would let me help her." Then he shook his head, letting out a humorless chuckle. "I guess I was wrong."

"When was that?" Emmett wanted to know.

"Last Thursday. She hasn't called since."

"Fucking great," he spat, tossing his napkin onto the table roughly. "Great job, Dad. Now she doesn't have to answer to anyone. Don't you get it? That's exactly what she wanted all along."

"I agree with Jasper, Em," Rosalie murmured, placing her hand on his forearm. "We should let her go."

Emmett gave her an intense look, remaining silent. Something unknown to the rest of us passed between them, and he finally let out a defeated sigh before reaching for his glass of whiskey.

"She's messing with all of our lives for her own sick pleasure," Edward spoke, his voice cold and his stance unyielding. "I'm sorry to say it, but I'm with Jasper and Rosalie on this one."

I stared at my husband's profile in awe, realizing he was keeping the vows he'd made at our wedding, _to love and honor me all the days of his life_. By making this decision to protect me against his own mother, he was doing just that; he was honoring me as his wife. To me, that meant more than he would ever know.

_~~ 0 ~~_

Later in the car, I finally asked Edward what had been on my mind for hours. "Are you going to tell me the news about James?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied, glancing at me sideways. "I had Jenks dig up dirt on him, and he found out that a few years back when Hall was still a resident at the hospital, he failed a mandatory drug test for methylphenidate, which is a psychoactive drug used for treating ADHD. His parents, being the affluent, unscrupulous bastards they are, bribed a female lab technician to get rid of the incriminating evidence."

"That's it?" I said with a frown. "Edward, there isn't much you can do without the actual test results."

He stopped the car at a red light, turning in his seat to look at me. He gave me a sly grin. "As I said, _she_ got rid of them."

"She?" I asked, confused.

"The lab technician. They're sleeping together."

"What?" My eyes grew the size of saucers.

Edward nodded slowly, sly grin still in place. "Jenks has evidence they've been having an on and off affair for almost seven years. She's married, but the sneaky asshole seduced her and she's been covering up all of his positive drug tests since that very first time."

"So, he's still sleeping with her?"

"Yeah," he confirmed. "And Jenks suspects his parents are still paying her, as well."

"And Esme..." I trailed off as I watched his face fall. He knew exactly what I meant. James was sleeping with both his mother and the lab technician.

"Yeah."

"Oh, my God," I whispered, my voice betraying the horror I felt upon hearing such atrocity. I was quite aware of James' ugly character, but this was downright cruel and perverted.

But then again… no one forced Esme to be with him in the first place. She cheated on Carlisle while they were still married, and what goes around really does come around. Karma is a bitch and misery is her sister, and they were both about to gang up on the ice queen herself.

Edward sighed. "I know."

The light turned green, and he put the car in motion again.

"So, is James an addict or something?"

"He's addicted to different uppers, would be my guess. Jenks said last time he tested positive for methadone, which is often used as an anti-addictive."

"An anti-addictive for..." I murmured, half curious, half afraid of knowing the answer.

"Heroin, most likely," Edward said matter-of-factly.

"Are you kidding me?" I gasped, trying to wrap my mind around what he was saying. He shrugged nonchalantly. "Jesus. So what now? What's your plan?"

Edward kept his eyes on the traffic ahead. "Jenks is going to try to get the woman to speak against him. She's obviously going to refuse at first, so he'll present her with the evidence that Hall's being unfaithful."

"And if she still refuses? From what you've just told me, I gather their relationship isn't exactly what you would call typical, so she might not care that much."

"If she still refuses, Jenks will threaten to expose them. I think she's smart enough not to risk both her job and her marriage."

Searching Edward's profile, I tried to gauge his current mood. To my utter surprise, his expression remained impassive. "What's going to happen to James?"

"If I have my way, and I usually do, I'll get him fired, have him lose hospital privileges, and of course make him lose his license to practice medicine in the state."

"That's harsh."

My reply managed to get a reaction out of him. His mouth twisted downwards, his brow creasing in visible displeasure. "Oh, trust me, I wish there was more I could do. He deserves everything that's coming to him."

"What about his parents?" I cocked my head to one side. "You said they're powerful."

"I can deal with them," he said, waving a dismissive hand. "My connections are as good as theirs if not better. Besides, let's not forget I'm an attorney... I have certain skills that will come in handy."

"Conceited much, Cullen?" I said teasingly, reaching over to run my fingers over the short hair at the nape of his neck.

He threw me a smug look. "Always have been."

"Just try not to get yourself harmed. James is a lunatic; who knows what he's capable of when cornered."

"Don't worry; I have it all under control." He grabbed my hand, bringing my wrist to his lips. "He can't do anything to me."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Once at home, Edward headed straight for his study, leaving me dumbfounded in the middle of the foyer. He was back a minute later holding a beautifully wrapped gift box.

"What's this?" I asked when he held it out to me in silent offering.

He gave me a coy grin. "Your Christmas present."

"Oh." I chuckled, taking it from him. Peering down at the light box in my hands, I turned on my heels, going into the kitchen. I sat on one of the bar stools and began unwrapping it eagerly. Inside a deep forest-green jewelry box sat a silver and gold _Rolex_. I stared at it for what seemed like an eternity, unmoving.

"You don't like it," Edward stated from behind me, a hint of hurt tainting his voice.

I began laughing at the absurdity of it. "Edward, how could I not like it? It's stunning," I said, turning to face him. "I love it."

He frowned, unconvinced. "Then what is it? Why are you laughing?"

"It's just..." I shook my head, smiling broadly. "I got you the same thing."

His posture relaxed instantly. "You got me a _Rolex_?"

"I got you a watch," I clarified. "Not _Rolex_."

"Great minds think alike, Mrs. Cullen." He chuckled, unbuttoning his wool blazer and taking a seat next to me.

Getting up, I slowly walked over to the cabinets and pulled out his present from behind a wooden condiment container set. "Susan said you wouldn't find it in here," I explained when he gave me a weird look.

He opened it with dexterous fingers while I watched over his shoulder. It was an _Astralis Mars_ by _Louis Moinet_, his favorite brand. The only wristwatch to contain a genuine fragment of a Martian meteorite that traveled over 55 million kilometers before reaching Earth! I wasn't even going to mention how much of a dent purchasing it had made into the credit card he'd given me.

"You like?" I inquired apprehensively, placing my hands on his shoulders.

"It's perfect," he breathed, taken aback by the piece of art lying idly in his hands. "Thank you. I suspect you spent quite a pretty penny on it."

I leaned down to kiss his cheek. "I'm glad you like it. I think I'm actually starting to enjoy being frivolous with your money."

"It's_ our_ money," he corrected, pulling me into his lap. He kissed my neck, my chin, my nose, and finally my lips. I opened my mouth, granting his tongue access to mine. When things got a little heated, I reached down between us to rub him through his jeans.

"Mmmm..." he murmured, his eyes closed as I peppered kisses along his jaw, all the while my fingers making quick work of his fly. My hand slipped into his boxer briefs, and he inhaled sharply as his eyes flew open. "No," he half moaned, half breathed. "Baby, not now."

"When?" I pressed, eyes hooded and not really caring for the answer. I wanted him. I needed my husband.

He stopped me by placing a firm hand over mine. "You know when," he replied, his expression screaming repressed lust. "I won't risk Matthew's safety."

"That's bullshit, Edward," I said with a deep frown. "The doctor said we could have gentle sex every week or so."

His eyes narrowed, and I knew I'd just managed to piss him off. "Yeah, well, there's something wrong with the way she does her job. Maybe we should switch doctors," he said, his voice and posture suddenly freezing cold. "Dr. Aminov seems capable."

"Are you making fun of me or what?" I snapped, hoisting myself up from his lap. Now, _I_ was mad. "Dr. Aminov is like ninety! He's a decrepit old man who can barely tell the difference between a baby boy and a baby girl."

"He's experienced."

"Dr. Clark is a good doctor, Edward. What the hell has gotten into you?" I said, exasperated, throwing my hands in the air.

_Oh, great._ This was turning into a fight.

"I didn't like the way she handled the whole pre-eclampsia thing. She should've given you stricter instructions after what happened at the wedding. I've read my fair share of pregnancy blogs and online pages. I _know_ for certain you shouldn't be allowed sexual intercourse during bed rest; why doesn't she?" he replied acidly, and I had to refrain from hurling something at his head.

I settled for glaring at him instead. "I can't believe you right now. You're not a doctor, Edward; stop thinking you know _everything_."

"I didn't say I know everything, but I know better than she does. She's too young, too inexperienced."

"Stop it, alright? Just stop it. I won't hear any more of this nonsense."

He rose to his feet, his face the epitome of determination. "We're not having sex until the baby is born."

"And we're not switching doctors." I crossed my arms over my chest defiantly, nodding towards his crotch. "Good luck with that tent you're still pitching."

He stared at me for a long moment, green eyes narrowed and nostrils flared. He looked like an angry dragon. The thought made me want to smile, but I reined in that urge. Suddenly, he spun on his heels and stomped out of the kitchen, leaving a trail of burning flames behind him. Seconds later, the sound made by the door to the master bedroom being slammed shut echoed through the condo.

"Jerk," I muttered under my breath, occupying his vacated seat. Looking down at my new wristwatch, I decided to try it on. Unsurprisingly, it was a perfect fit.

I sighed, holding my left hand in front of me and admiring the way my wedding rings complemented the lovely _Rolex_. Edward was such a kind and attentive husband. Why couldn't he be less of a hot-headed prick?

_Oh, well..._

I set to make myself some chamomile tea. When I was done, I brought the mug with me to our bedroom. I could hear the water running in the adjoining bathroom and assumed Edward was taking a shower. Changing into flannel pajamas, I slid under the covers with my tea and a book I'd started a couple of days prior.

By the time Edward emerged from the bathroom, I was engrossed in the book. He began looking for a fresh pair of boxer briefs and a t-shirt, pulling open drawers as he went, and I rose my eyes from the page I was currently on to glare at his back; my concentration gone.

He dropped the towel around his hips to pull on the pair of black underwear he'd selected, and I couldn't help ogle his sculpted ass. Letting my lustful eyes wander, I took in his strong calves, the muscles in his back, his bulging biceps...

He turned around, and I managed to get a glimpse of his ripped abdomen just before he covered it with a plain cotton t-shirt in an odd dusty grape color. God, did my husband have a killer body. How in hell had I gotten so lucky?

Edward caught me looking, and his lips curled into an arrogant smile. He knew precisely the effect he had on me. And yet, he wouldn't touch me. My frustration was getting the better of me.

Sauntering towards the bed, he slid in beside me. I frowned, forcing my attention back on the book in a feeble attempt to ignore his overwhelming presence so close to me.

He turned onto his side, throwing a leg over both of mine and his left arm just under my breasts where my baby bump started. I inhaled sharply and tried to pull away. I was still mad at him.

He held me in place firmly, ignoring my trying to getting away from him. "Your feet are cold."

"I'm fine," I said dryly, refusing to look at him.

"Come here." He pulled me even closer, his leg enveloping mine like ivy.

"I said I'm fine," I reiterated, weaker this time. It was hard keeping my composure when he was being so infuriatingly cajoling.

"You're being stubborn for nothing," he murmured, kissing my hair before nuzzling it lovingly.

I sighed. "You think getting on my nerves is nothing? In case you haven't noticed, my tolerance for your childish tantrums is nonexistent these days."

"It wasn't a tantrum," he whispered into my hair before kissing it again.

My resolve was slowly crumbling under the power of his tender gestures. "What was it then?"

"Me having an opinion."

"Your opinion is unfounded, Edward." I finally looked at him and had to fight to keep my dirty thoughts in check. His hair was damp from his shower and he was sporting that five o'clock shadow I liked so much. "You know that."

"I don't want to fight," he said with a heavy sigh, doing his best to placate me.

"Well, maybe I do," I replied stubbornly.

"And I don't," he said more firmly.

"And everything has to be done your way, doesn't it? I'll fight if I want to, damn it!"

His brow furrowed, and he gave me a look like he thought I was getting a little crazy. "You're overreacting."

"I don't care. I'm mad at you."

Instead of replying, he just leaned in and kissed me. Resisting him was futile; my body craved him. So instead, I closed my eyes and let myself enjoy it.

It was deep and passionate, and even though I was lying down, I could feel my legs turn to jelly. He was such a good kisser.

"I love you," he murmured, going for my neck. "I hate it when we fight."

"Touch me," I implored, arching into him.

"Bella..." he breathed, and I could hear the torment in his voice.

"I need it, Edward. Please don't make me beg."

He must have really sensed my urgency, because after a moment of hesitation, his hand started drifting towards the waistband of my pajama pants. I had no idea why I was so wound up; all I knew was that I needed the release.

His fingers slipped into my panties, and I pushed against them, relishing the contact. It felt so good. He rubbed gentle circles around my clit, his mouth peppering hot, wet kisses just under my jaw. I moaned in response to his ministrations, and I could hear his breath get heavier with each passing second.

"Yes," I whimpered, my skin feeling like it was about to burst into flames. "I love you so much."

"I love you, baby," he rasped, pushing against my thigh. He was rock-hard under the thin fabric of his boxer briefs, and I hated that he was denying himself the pleasure. I trusted Dr. Clark implicitly; why couldn't he?

"More," I demanded, craning my neck to reach his mouth. He kissed, licked and bit my lips, never taking his eyes off of me. They were practically hooded with lust, and the intensity behind them was enough to send me into a frenzy.

"More," I said again, writhing under the spell of his touch.

Edward inserted a tentative finger inside me, and a few pumps later, I was coming fast and hard, my nails digging into his forearm. The relief was immediate. My body felt lighter, and I let my head fall back into the soft pillow, trying to catch my breath.

"I missed this," I voiced my thoughts, reaching up to caress his face.

"Yeah," he mumbled, turning his head to kiss my palm. Reflecting upon our relationship in the past few months, made me realize this pregnancy hadn't been easy on him either. He needed the release just as much as I did.

"Will you let me reciprocate?"

He shook his head. "There's no need. I'll be fine."

"Edward, you look like you're in pain," I argued. "Please let me make you feel good."

He seemed to be struggling with the answer. "I don't-"

"Oral never hurt anyone," I cut him off before he could say no. "Please?"

Edward looked like he was tempted to argue, but his eyes betrayed him. He wanted this.

"Okay," he said after a moment.

I grinned triumphantly. "Get out of bed and strip."

He helped me up first, then did as I told him. I sat on the edge of the bed, and he stood naked in front of me.

"Come here," I coaxed, grabbing his hips and pulling him closer. Keeping my gaze fixed on his handsome face, I leaned down and took him in my mouth.

"Shiiiit," he exhaled, the harsh expletive sounding so erotic given the context. His hands buried into my loose hair, and I went deeper, loving the feel of him. He was smooth and warm and incredibly hard. He was salty and wet and perfect, and whoever first said size doesn't matter, was a big fat liar.

I sucked harder, running my tongue over the tip, and his eyes became wild. His fingers tightened their hold on my hair, and he began thrusting back; taking control of his own pleasure. His leg muscles tensed under my hands, and I moaned around him, wishing he was pumping this vigorously elsewhere.

I applied more pressure, giving him the much needed friction, and I could see his jaw set as he breathed hard through his nose. Scraping his shaft with my teeth a few times had the desired effect.

"I'm… coming," he warned, giving me the opportunity to pull back.

_As if._

"Oooh... So good, Bella, baby," he groaned as warm liquid began coating my throat. I swallowed, not a fan of the taste, but loving his face when he watched me do it.

"Better?" I asked when I was done, giving him a smug look.

"Yeah," he breathed, caressing my cheek. "So much better."

_~~ 0 ~~_

On New Year's Eve, Kate and I sat in the living room, chatting about this and that as she taught me how to knit. She'd made some awesome hats, mittens and booties for Matthew, and I insisted she showed me how to do it. Almost twenty minutes into our lesson, I'd managed to make half a bootie. I didn't have Kate's skills, but the tiny piece of wool in my hand was starting to resemble actual footwear.

"What are you two doing?" Edward stepped into the room, wearing a soft smile. He was dressed casually in jeans and a light blue sweater with the sleeves rolled up.

"Kate's teaching me how to knit little shoes for Matthew." I beamed, holding up my little artwork. "Look, I actually made half of this one."

Grabbing the other finished pair, he examined it briefly. "These actually look intricate." He looked impressed as he leaned down and rewarded me with a kiss. "Good job, baby."

"Thanks," I said with a smile, breathing in the subtle scent of his cologne. "Is dinner ready yet?"

He straightened up, holding his hand out for me. "Dinner's ready and the table is set. Susan's sent me to fetch you both."

I put down the woolen thread and knitting needles, placing a hand on my belly for support as he helped me up. "Great, I'm starving."

"Where's Garrett?" Kate inquired, pushing the other wool balls to the side before standing.

"I left him in the study talking on the phone," Edward replied, his hand rubbing gently over the small of my back.

"I'll go get him," she said, and left the room.

Turning to Edward, I placed my palms against his chest. "I like this sweater on you. You look so handsome."

"Aren't I always?" he replied with a smirk.

"Yes, you are, you conceited ass. Too handsome for your own good, actually."

He chuckled, wrapping both arms around me. "Would you have rather preferred I was ugly?"

I grinned up at him. "Nope. This pretty face is what attracted me to you in the first place."

"Not my charismatic personality?"

I snorted, slapping his chest playfully. "You don't have a charismatic bone in your body."

"Thank you." He laughed quietly. "What a lovely compliment, wife."

"Well, it's the truth. You're direct and fiery and a no-nonsense kind of guy, and for that I love you."

His smile faded, his expression becoming more serious as his eyes bored into mine adoringly. "And you're my complementary better half: kind, sweet, innocent... an eternal optimist."

"So, you're saying I'm the Yang to your Yin?" I joked, trying to keep the conversation light.

He seemed pensive for a second. "Well, not quite because as I know it, Yang is associated with masculinity and Yin with femininity, so in theory it's the other way around. But... you're definitely the light to my dark, the high to my low, the water to my fire and so many other things."

"How very philosophic of you."

Edward kissed me in response, his lips lingering against mine. "Do you have any idea how much I love you?" he whispered almost reverently.

"I might have an inkling," I said coyly.

"I don't think I've ever felt like this before."

"Not even with..." I trailed off, and he understood I was referring to Tanya.

"No." He shook his head, and there was something in his eyes; a feeling I couldn't grasp the meaning of. "No. This love I have for you is all-consuming. It's like an obsession. You make me feel like a love-struck teenager all over again."

I gaped at him in astonishment. Never in the year and a half since I'd known him had Edward been so completely straightforward with expressing his feelings.

"The feeling is so very mutual," I murmured, placing my arms around his neck and pulling him down for another kiss. My fingers locked into his hair, and he let out a contented hum, responding with equal fervor. One of his hands settled on my stomach, feeling his son move around restlessly.

"I hate to interrupt the little moment you three are having." Kate had materialized into the living room again, and Edward pulled back hesitantly. "Susan has left, and dinner is getting cold. Are you coming?"

Edward was about to answer, but was distracted by a sudden jolt coming from my baby bump. "He just kicked me."

"I think that means he's hungry, too." I laughed, pressing my hand over his.

"Like father like son," Kate muttered in amusement, turning around to leave.

Edward stared down at my enlarged stomach, a look of sheer pride lighting his entire face. "Shall we?" he asked playfully, linking our fingers.

"We shall," I replied in kind, following him into the dining room.

Kate and Garrett were already seated at the table, which Susan had done a fabulous job of decorating. This year's colors were white, silver and a very unconventional violet. The centerpiece consisted of a huge baby's breath flower arrangement, which I thought to be a really sweet touch given the circumstances. There were brand new table settings bought for this particular event, and a few lit candles to complete the atmosphere. But what caught my attention were the four gift boxes sitting idly next to the intricately wrapped cloth napkins. They all looked the same, and I wondered what was inside. I looked to Edward in silent question, but he simply shrugged, unknowing.

"So, Bella, when are you due?" Garrett asked, reaching for the deviled eggs.

"My doctor said I _should_ be due on January twenty-fifth, but with my pre-eclampsia and all, we'll have to wait and see," I replied, smiling at Edward as he put a mini mushroom tart on my plate then his.

"That's like three weeks from now?" he said after a moment, pausing to look at me.

"Almost four," Edward answered, continuing to add a spinach cheese roll and a stuffed tomato onto my plate before doing the same to his.

"Thank you," I murmured gratefully, and he kissed my cheek in response.

Garrett smiled, taking in our display of affection. "I'm sure you're going to have a beautiful son. Kate's already overly excited to get her hands on him."

I chuckled, glancing over at Kate who was pouring herself a glass of wine and trying to suppress her amusement. I was so happy for her. She and Garrett seemed to be getting along really well. She deserved someone who could truly appreciate her, and from what she'd shared, Garrett was that special guy.

"Yeah, Edward and I know the feeling. It's going to be an amazing experience getting to hold him for the first time."

Garrett nodded. "Edward, you're a lucky man."

"I know," he said with a smile, leaning over to whisper in my ear. "I have a surprise for you."

"Oh?" I gave him an inquiring look.

"Later." He winked conspiratorially.

_~~ 0 ~~_

It turned out, the gift boxes contained dessert. They were mini cakes in the shape of a blue baby cart, that got us all gaping at Susan's outstanding skills in the kitchen. The woman was a true artist, and I made a mental note of asking Edward where he'd found her. To say dessert was delicious would be an understatement. It had three different layers of filling: chocolate, raspberry and walnuts, and I couldn't help devouring mine as well as half of Edward's, which he indulgently pushed towards me.

After clinking a glass of champagne - non-alcoholic grape cocktail for me - at midnight and enjoying the firework show, Edward asked all of us in the living room. We gathered on the couch with our drinks still in hand, watching as he set up the DVD player. Our beautiful Christmas tree was silently glowing in its private little corner, and I let my gaze linger on the baby's first ornament. It was an egg tied with a blue ribbon that said _Matthew's first Christmas, _because technically this _was_ his first Christmas inside his mommy's belly.

"Now that Kate is also here, I wanted to show you something." Edward grabbed the remote, making his way over to me, and I gave him my sweetest smile. He was going to be such a good father.

"What is it?" I asked as he sat down beside me. "You've made me curious over dinner."

"I had Jenks do this video for you," he said, pushing a couple of buttons and making the flat screen come to life. "This has been on the market for a really short time."

A relatively young red-head stared back at us. She was dressed smart in a silk blouse paired with a tight pencil skirt and stiletto shoes that showcased her slim figure. _"My name is Abigail Byrne, and I'll be your realtor today,"_ she said in a thick Irish accent, offering the camera a blinding smile.

"What?" I gasped, turning to Edward.

He placed his hand on my knee, shushing me. "Just watch."

Looking back at the screen, I noticed the woman was standing in the middle of a huge foyer_. "Built in 2005, this 11,000-square-foot grand beauty is one of a kind," _she began, starting to move towards the stairs. _"It has five bedrooms, six full baths, three half baths, high ceilings, heated floors, a steel and mahogany staircase, arched passageways, three fireplaces, elevator, and a media room with a stage on the lower level. Compensating for the tight lot lines are two terraces, a small back yard and a 1,200-square-foot roof deck with city views."_

She went on, going from room to room, and I was mesmerized. The entire presentation took almost an hour. When the video ended, I was pretty much speechless.

"What do you think?" Edward asked apprehensively, gently squeezing my knee.

"Edward, it's huge!" I blurted, wide-eyed and still in shock. "Five bedrooms? What are we supposed to do with five bedrooms?"

He shrugged, giving me a reserved smile. "I want lots of kids."

"But it doesn't have a pool..." I babbled, not knowing what else to say. "You said you wanted a pool."

"You heard her. It has two terraces, a small back yard with a patio, and a more than accommodating roof deck. I was thinking about transforming the roof deck into an open pool area."

"Is that even possible?"

"It is with the right amount of money. We can do pretty much anything we want with the house. It has great structure."

I shook my head, unable to hide the smile tugging at my lips. "It doesn't have a gazebo."

"I think the two terraces are a good replacement. Plus, it's in the city. That's definitely a bonus," he replied quickly, and I could see how excited he was about this one. He really loved the house.

"You thought about everything, didn't you?"

"I think it would make an amazing home, if you want my opinion," Kate cut in. "Great for raising children."

I took a deep breath, trying to absorb everything I'd learned about it in the past hour. To be honest, the house was much nicer and better suited to our needs than anything we'd seen thus far. I loved the architecture and especially the design and spaciousness of the rooms. It was great... really great.

"How much?"

"Five million."

"That's... incredibly expensive," I whispered.

"We can afford it," Edward assured me, angling his body towards me. He looked hopeful. "So, what do you say?"

I bit my lip, pondering his proposal of purchasing the house. "So we're not moving into the suburbs?"

"Not if you don't want to."

"You know I don't," I said, glancing back at the TV screen. The video had been paused on Abigail bidding goodbye on the roof deck. The scenery behind her was simply breathtaking. "I love it more than any other house we've seen. I want it if you do, too."

"I do," he beamed. "Consider it ours, baby. I'll have Jenks call Abigail tomorrow and draw up the contract. I can't wait to start remodeling."

He kissed me, and I laughed at his excitement. He was like a little kid on Christmas Day. "We're really getting a house," I breathed. "Wow!"

"Congrats!" Kate jumped from her seat. "Let me give you guys a hug." She kissed and hugged both of us while Garrett settled for patting Edward on the back and giving my cheek a brief peck.

Then Edward leaned in to whisper in my ear, his voice warm and seductive. "You know... we're getting more than just a house; we're getting a home for our family. We'll have lots of kids, and you will never wish for anything. I will always treat you like the queen you are... the one and only queen of my heart."

My amazing, intense, ridiculously hot husband... it was insane how much I loved him.

_~~ 0 ~~_

A few days later, Edward entered our bedroom looking like the cat that ate the canary.

"What's with the grin?" I inquired, momentarily distracted from my book on interior design.

He pulled his t-shirt over his head, heading for the built-in closet. "Jenks called. He wants to meet."

"Does that mean..." I trailed off suggestively.

"Yeah," he confirmed, positively glowing. "The lab tech in willing to talk."

* * *

><p><strong>AN Thank you for reading!**

**A link to E and B's new home is on TPB facebook group!**

**~Andreea~**


	36. Chapter 35: Elated

**A/N Enjoy?**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 35<strong>

**Edward POV**

* * *

><p><em>~ January 4th 2013 ~<em>

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

The _Grand Lux __Café _was surprisingly quiet for a Friday evening. I spotted Jenks almost immediately, and headed in his direction. He and his guest were seated next to a statue of a nude woman opening her mouth to a funnel shaped… something. It was a very _progressive_ sight.

"Good evening," I said in greeting, my eyes fixed on the unfamiliar woman.

Jenks turned in his seat to face me. "You're late."

"I'm sorry; Isabella needed my help with something," I apologized.

He gave a short nod, motioning towards our company. "Edward, this is Michelle Hayes."

"Edward Cullen, nice to meet you," I responded and extended my hand out, which she shook apprehensively.

"Likewise."

Jenks gestured to a plush chair, and I unbuttoned the blazer I was wearing before sitting down.

Michelle Hayes looked to be in her late thirties. She had curly brown hair, bright green eyes and a very asymmetrical face. She was attractive, but not blatantly so. She had very delicate features which were accentuated by the pastel pink sweater she had on. Knowing James and his taste in women, it seemed quite peculiar that he would find this particular one worthy of his attention.

An impeccably dressed waiter appeared by my side with a menu. "Good evening."

"Good evening." I raised my hand to decline the menu. "I'll have an espresso; long, and a bottle of _Evian_."

He nodded in understanding. "Would that be all, sir?"

"Yes, thank you." He left, and I leaned back into my seat, trying to make myself more comfortable. The music was eclectic as always; a strange mix of Top 40 and Jazz, which I actually found compelling.

"Mrs. Hayes was telling me about the beginning of her... _unconventional_ relationship with Hall," Jenks said, giving me a meaningful look before directing his attention to the silent woman. "Would you mind reiterating what you just told me?"

She sighed, reaching for her glass of wine and draining the last of its content. The empty glass met the table with a quiet clink, and Mrs. Hayes looked like she was steeling herself for what she was about to relate.

"There's not much to say, really. It started out innocently enough..." she began in a soft voice, toying with her wedding rings, "...meeting for coffee at the hospital's cafeteria, and taking smoke breaks together. It slowly grew from there. I didn't even know him prior to the first _incident_.

"My colleague, at the time, performed the mandatory drug test; I just happened to be in the lab when he did it. I was new to the job, barely three weeks in. James knew the test results would be positive and told his father about it. Mr. Hall came to the hospital that very evening. I don't know how he got into the lab, but he did, just as my colleague and I were preparing to leave for the day."

Her brow furrowed as if she was remembering something unpleasant, and Jenks sat up straighter. Clearly, she was getting to the good part.

"He offered us money in exchange for our silence. The amount was obscene. Neither of us could say no. So, my colleague faked James' test results, and we all went on our merry way, pretending nothing ever happened. My colleague was transferred to another hospital the next week. To this day, I have no clue whether it was Mr. Hall's intervention or not."

I snorted unceremoniously. Of course it had been Friedrich; that man's guts knew no boundaries. He and his son were so much alike, it literally made me sick.

Mrs. Hayes gave me an inquiring look. I shook my head. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Hayes, go on."

"Michelle, please."

"Michelle," I repeated complacently. The waiter returned with my order, and I reached for my shot of espresso.

"So, I stayed, and a few days later, I ran into James during lunch hour. He introduced himself, and we had lunch together. He started telling me how sorry he was and how much he regretted taking stimulants to help with his fatigue. Naturally, I believed him. That's how we became friends and started hanging out regularly. One thing led to another, and a few months later, our relationship had developed into more.

"We decided to keep it between us. At some point, I fell for him and started wanting more, but he told me he wasn't looking for something serious. I tried to break it off with him numerous times, but each time he managed to convince me to stay. He was seeing other women, too, and that really bothered me. Eventually, I just grew used to the idea; our relationship was what it was. A year and a half later, I met my husband, and five months after that, I was a married woman. James refused to let go, so we kept seeing each other."

She paused, and I saw the opportunity to inquire about what really interested me. "What about the other drug tests?"

"Our hospital policy includes mandatory drug tests for the medical staff every six months. I covered for him every single time for the past seven years."

"Why?"

My question seemed to bother her. A crease formed just above her brow; an unmistakable sign of discomfort. "First of all, because his father continued to pay me, handsomely, and I realize how awful that sounds, but the money was incredible, and I needed it. I had huge student loans from college," she explained defensively. "Secondly, because I had developed feelings for him. Don't get me wrong, I love my husband, but I could never quite get over James." Her frown deepened, and she let out a heavy sigh. "Things have changed, and he's different now."

My interest was piqued. "What do you mean?" I asked, and regretted it instantly; I had a sinking _feeling_ I wasn't going to like the answer.

"He lives with that Esme woman," Michelle said indifferently, stroking the modest rock adorning her engagement ring. "I'm not allowed into his apartment anymore; we meet in hotel rooms."

I could feel the color drain from my cheeks as soon as the dismissive words escaped her. The reminder that my mother was fucking James was like dumping a bucket of ice cold water over my head.

"You knew about them," I said in a low voice, fighting to rein in my temper. She couldn't be blamed for my mother's lack of judgment.

Something on my face must've alerted her of the fine line she was walking. "Uh... y-yeah," she stammered, glancing at Jenks anxiously. "I mentioned I wanted a break, and he started screaming and threatening to expose us to my husband. He just won't let me go. In all honesty, he's beginning to scare me."

"Why?" I pressed. The snarky voice at the back of my mind whispered that I was hoping for more information about my mother. I ignored it. She and I were done.

Michelle shrugged. "He was always kind of distant, but lately he's been plain cold. And he can get quite cruel when he wants to. At this point, I'm _afraid_ of breaking up with him. He knows I have leverage over him, and that's why he kept me close all these years. I'm not stupid; I realized that a long time ago."

"Do you really think he'd tell your husband?" Jenks probed, his elbows now resting on the table.

"That and more. He's capable of ruining my life. And now with you two showing up, I'm between a rock and a hard place. Tell me, what do I do?" Her eyes alternated between the two of us, pleading.

"I can't guarantee he won't come after you once we expose him. But I can't let this slide either. He's done me and my family a lot of harm, and I intend on getting my revenge," I said firmly. She seemed like a relatively decent person, and I wished it hadn't come down to this, but I couldn't put her family before my own.

"What about me? What about my job and my marriage? I have a three-year-old daughter. What will happen to our family if I help you?" She looked almost desperate at the prospect of ruin looming in the nearby future.

"You should have thought about that before deciding to continue your relationship with James despite being married," I snapped, and realized I sounded a bit harsher than necessary. "You_ will _give us what we need to destroy James, or _I_ will wreck your life instead. The choice is yours."

Even to my ears, I sounded like a dick. But she was my only chance at ever getting back at James, and I had to get her to help us, at any cost.

"Please..." she breathed, leaning towards me over the table. She was begging me for leniency, and I hated it. It made me feel like tyrant. "I don't know what to do."

"I suggest you move to another city," I replied more calmly, having no qualms about doing what I thought to be the right thing. Unlike her lover, I wasn't a monster; I had no intention of actually messing with her life. In fact, I was more than willing to help her, with the sole condition that she'd help me in return.

Her eyes widened as she let out a small gasp. "But how could I? Our families are here... my husband's job is here. How cou-"

I cut her off impatiently, "I can get you another job in New York."

"New York?" She looked like she was having a hard time comprehending.

"Yes. I have connections there. I can't promise I'll be able to get you out of this mess completely unaffected. What I _can_ promise is that I'll help you build a new life somewhere else. Because let's face it; once the truth about James is out, your life in Chicago will be over. You can tell your husband you've received an offer you can't refuse. New York offers great career opportunities; he won't see past the lie."

"What about _his_ career?" she asked, bewildered and upset.

"What does he do?" Jenks inquired from beside me.

"He's an electrical engineer."

He waved her off with an encouraging smile. "He'll manage just fine; trust me. Edward here is giving you the opportunity to get rid of James _and _save your marriage. Your husband never has to find out about him. Besides... come on, the man's offering to find you a good job in New York. You'd have to be insane not to see the endless benefits in that."

Michelle closed her eyes and sighed, the pads of her fingers rubbing furious circles against her temples. She was quiet for a moment; looking like she was considering her options. "I don't have a choice, do I?" she finally asked, sounding resigned.

I shook my head, pushing my untouched water towards her. "I'm afraid not. Right now, we're the better choice."

_~~ 0 ~~_

About half an hour later, Jenks and I stood outside the café. Michelle had already departed with a cab Jenks hailed for her.

"Jenks, thank you for everything." I reached out my hand, trying to squeeze as much gratitude as I could into my voice. I couldn't wait to get home and share the news with Isabella.

He grasped my hand firmly before patting me on the back with a smile. "Don't mention it. You've always been of great help whenever I needed you; the least I could do was to return the favor."

"What's next?" I asked, pushing my hands into my coat pockets to shield them from the freezing cold.

"You said you wanted this Hall guy finished," he said, his eyes following a young woman wearing a long fur coat as she passed us by.

"Yeah." I chuckled, and he returned his attention to me. He smirked cockily.

"Leave it to me. Soon, he won't know what hit him."

"What can I do?"

"Absolutely nothing... well, except get Michelle a job as you promised, and pay for her new living accommodations in _The City So Nice They Named It Twice_," he said playfully, and I shook my head at him. He was in such high spirits, his good mood was infectious.

"Okay. Although, I don't know whether I should feel bad for her or not," I admitted.

"I don't think you should. If you ask me, you're being _too_ generous. She brought this on herself; you have no obligation to help her." He became more serious. "Also, I would suggest hiring security."

I puffed out a loud breath. "I'm not afraid of fucking James."

"He'll come after you once I get him fired, you know that," Jenks warned, giving me a stern look. "Don't risk your family's safety because you're too arrogant and full of yourself to acknowledge the danger he represents."

I stared at him for a moment, contemplating. While I didn't fear James coming after me, I knew he probably wasn't going to limit his vendetta to my person only. He was liable to hurt Isabella and the baby, and I couldn't have that. I would've never been able to forgive myself if I let anything happen to either of them. "Where do I get a damn bodyguard?"

"Never mind, I'll handle it," Jenks murmured, and I could tell he wanted to roll his eyes at me.

I suppressed a smile. "What would I do without you?"

"I don't know, man," he said quietly, his dark gaze shining with mischief. "I really don't know."

_~~ 0 ~~_

When I got home, it was just after nine. I found Isabella in the kitchen, perched up on a stool and watching Kate make pancakes. They both looked up in unison as I entered the kitchen. My eyes fell on Isabella, petite and round in all the right places, and I couldn't help the swell of pride that coursed through me. My wife was simply radiant.

"Hey," she said with a smile. "Back so soon?"

"Yeah." I smiled back, walking over to her. "You should be lying down."

I kissed her forehead, and she shook her head. "I needed to stretch my legs a little."

"Lemonade?" Kate offered, motioning to the half-full carafe.

I declined by shaking my head. "I'll have a beer."

"So, how was it?" Isabella asked, as I made my way over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of _Westvleteren's 12__; _a brand of Belgian beer I'd only recently discovered. I sat down on a stool and began recounting the conversation I'd had with Michelle Hayes. Both Isabella and Kate listened quietly. When I was finished, Isabella looked up from the paper napkin she'd been shredding and sighed.

"I feel sorry for her. She's as much of a victim as we are; don't you think?"

"Yes and no," I replied carefully. "She should've stayed away from him, but I get what you're saying."

"What now?" Kate inquired, turning off the stove and placing the last pancake on a plate. She was no stranger to the "James issue" as she called it.

"We wait until all hell breaks loose, which will happen soon, no doubt," Isabella said, giving me a meaningful look.

"And then?" Kate pressed. I could tell from the tone of her voice she was worried for us.

"Then we enjoy James' misery," I stated, keeping my expression neutral.

Isabella frowned. "I don't think I could ever enjoy other people's misery."

"_I_ can and I will," I replied, unsympathetic. "That asshole had it coming for a long time."

Isabella looked down at the mess she'd made on the kitchen island, purposely avoiding my gaze. "What about Esme?"

My hand clenched around the beer bottle tightly. "What about her?" I gritted, my mood doing a one-eighty. This shift in disposition was so abrupt; I could _feel_ my blood pressure rise to the point of implosion. I was so fucking tired of discussing my mother.

"What will happen to her?" Isabella asked meekly, still not meeting my eyes.

"I don't know and I don't care," I answered as calmly as I could, trying not to take out my frustration on her. But my voice was filled with restrained choler, and I could tell by my wife's expression she knew she was treading on thin ice.

"Won't James come after you?" Kate intervened, causing my attention to snap to her.

I nodded, my jaw clenched. "He probably will; that's why we're hiring security."

"Oh." She looked taken aback by this new piece of information. "That's good, I guess."

I turned to Isabella, who was now staring at me, her mouth forming a surprised, small 'o'. "You'll be safe. I'd never allow him to lay a single finger on you."

She shook her head as if to chase away her initial stupor. "How long will we be keeping security?"

"For as long as necessary."

"Months... years...? "She didn't look happy at the prospect of having some strange man follow her around for an undetermined period of time.

"Let's hope weeks," I said more gently, noticing her growing concern. "I'm trying to make him leave Chicago, which might happen once he loses his license to practice in the state."

"What if he doesn't leave?" she asked in a quiet, almost whispered voice, and I realized she sounded afraid. I immediately hated that she'd come to fear that bastard so much. I wanted her to feel safe with me; to trust that I was always going to protect her and the baby from anyone who planned on harming them.

But somehow, her question had managed to plant the seeds of doubt into my mind. _What if_ James didn't leave Chicago? We couldn't live in fear of him for the rest of our lives. Something had to give, and I needed to make sure I had the upper hand in this matter.

Trying not to give away too much of my own distress, which would've no doubt amplified Isabella's anxiety, I settled on a neutral answer. "We'll see."

_~~ 0 ~~_

It was a quiet afternoon at the office.

I walked through the double glass doors leading to my father's office, my mind still partially set on the meeting I'd just stepped out of. His new assistant, Lucy, sat at her desk, typing furiously on her computer. Her eyes peered at the screen over the rim of her vintage-looking glasses, darting in my direction when she saw me coming.

"Is my father in?" I inquired, taking in her decent silk blouse and pencil skirt, and wishing Victoria wore similar outfits.

She smiled, ceasing her typing and pushing an errant strand of blond hair behind her ear. "He just came back from lunch."

I nodded, already headed towards his office. "Nice glasses, by the way."

"They're new," she called with a nervous chuckle, before adding a quick "thanks."

I knocked, not bothering to wait for an answer before entering.

"Hey, Dad," I said, closing the door behind me. He sat at his desk, going through what looked like that day's copy of _The Wall Street Journal_.

"Oh, hey, son," he replied, putting down the paper and removing his reading glasses.

I sat on a chair opposite him, diving right into the subject. "Emmett and I were thinking about going to a sports bar to watch the playoffs tonight. Are you interested? I think Jasper's also coming."

"Yeah, sure," he responded as his surprise quickly morphed into genuine interest. "I could use some quality time with my sons. Where exactly are we going?"

I shrugged noncommittally. "Can't remember the bar's name, but Emmett's going to pick you up around seven."

"What about Isabella? You're not leaving her home alone, are you?" he inquired, concerned.

I chuckled, shaking my head at him, although it pleased me that he was taking an interest in my wife and unborn child. "Of course not, Dad. Alice and her friend Angela are staying with her."

"Good, good," he replied with a chuckle of his own. He ran a hand through his graying hair, and I couldn't help but notice a few worry lines that hadn't been there before. His desk phone rang, and he answered it promptly. "Yes, Lucy?" He listened for a few seconds, his eyebrows rising with each processed word. "Yes, yes, send her in."

"Her?" I asked as he hung up, immediately thinking it was my mother.

"Karen Young is here to see me," Dad clarified, his eyes large with astonishment. "I haven't seen her in ten years."

Before I could answer, the door to the office opened and Lucy ushered in my father's unexpected visitor. Karen Young was an old family friend. She was in her mid-fifties, had beautiful, red hair, and a pair of hypnotic, almost-gold eyes. She was dressed impeccably in a peach colored dress and cream overcoat; practically unchanged since the last time I'd seen her, many years back.

"Carlisle, Edward," she greeted us with a kiss on the cheek. "I'm sorry to drop in unannounced."

"You're always welcome here, Karen," my father said, and I had to suppress a smile at his lingering gaze on her. Karen Young was more beautiful and gracious than a lot of women half her age.

I wondered what she was doing back in Chicago. She'd left the country after her husband's death, and none of us had heard much about her ever since. All we knew was that she'd gone to London to live with her daughter and son-in-law. And now she was here, seeking my father's advice on some legal matter, no doubt. Interesting.

"I hope I'm not interrupting." She gazed at me questioningly.

"Not at all," I told her with a reassuring smile. "In fact, I was just leaving. Dad, I'll see you later."

"Sure." Dad nodded, motioning for Karen to have a seat. "Please."

"Karen, nice to see you," I said as a farewell.

"You too, Edward." She smiled kindly as she sat on the indicated chair.

As I walked out and passed by Lucy's vacated desk, I contemplated Karen's visit. Was she really here on business or were her motives more _personal_? Maybe she'd found out about my mother's antics and was here to discuss them. I hoped not. The last thing we needed was other people mingling in our family affairs.

A couple of hours later, I was home. Lately, I'd made a habit of leaving work earlier so I could spend more time with Isabella. In my absence, Susan, or Kate, and sometimes Angela, kept a vigilant eye on her. She was never alone, and wouldn't be at least until she had Matthew. Even then, I was seriously considering hiring a nanny. Of course, I had no intention of stealing away Isabella's experience as a first time mom, but I didn't want her to feel overwhelmed either. Soon she would have to juggle both her roles as a mom as well as a student, and I wanted to make the transition as smooth as I could.

Isabella and Angela were in the living room, eating popcorn and watching a movie, with the lights off. Susan was in the kitchen making dinner, and Alice had yet to arrive. I went straight for the master bedroom to take a shower and change clothes.

As I stepped out of the shower, the girls' incessant giggles caught my attention. After putting on jeans and a light sweater, I went to join them, only to realize they were watching a movie starring _Ryan Gosling. _I had to refrain from rolling my eyes at them. Later, Alice arrived, and the four of us had dinner. I had to sit through an entire half-hour meal, listening to Angela's praise of the "God-like" actor. When I couldn't take it anymore, I grabbed my coat and made a hasty exit.

"Ladies, I'm off," I announced, leaning down to give Isabella a light kiss.

"Be good," she said playfully.

"Always am," I replied in kind.

Almost an hour later, I was surrounded by testosterone, which was a nice change from the estrogen-filled atmosphere at home. I raised my beer, taking a long draw, my eyes trained on the huge flat screen where the game was just starting.

"Man, look at that chick's skirt," Jasper commented. "What in the hell is she doing dressed like that in a bar packed with hormonal men?"

We all looked in unison, my attention shifting from the screen to said woman. She had on one of those short leather skirts that could make a pole dancer blush. The fact that she was leaning over the bar, as she flirted with the bartender, didn't help either.

"What do you think she's doing, Jas?" Emmett's entertained reply made me chuckle. "She's looking to hook up."

"She looks vulgar," Jasper stated with distaste.

"Yeah... reminds me of your assistant, Vicky." Emmett waggled his eyebrows in my direction.

"Don't mention her," I said flatly. Honestly, I couldn't wait for the opportunity to get rid of her.

Emmett laughed like the obnoxious prick he was. "That woman would suck your dick like a popsicle if you let her."

"Gross, Em." Jasper's nose wrinkled. I simply decided to ignore him. If only Isabella could hear him...

Dad shook his head, looking something between amused and horrified. "I didn't need to hear that, son."

"What, Dad? You know I have a filthy mouth."

"When Rosalie's not around. You wouldn't even dream of speaking like that in front of her," I said acidly.

"Not true," he denied vehemently.

"Yeah, it is. Admit it; she wears your balls on a chain around her neck, you fucking pussy."

He flipped me the middle finger, and I had to laugh at that. I'd managed to piss him off.

"Boys, settle down," Dad said complacently, motioning for the waitress to bring him another beer.

"I need to get a new car," I changed the subject.

"What for?" Jasper asked.

"For when the baby comes. I was thinking something bigger; maybe a Mercedes SUV. I like the ML550."

Both Emmett and Jasper nodded approvingly. "Nice design, great engine, not too expensive." Emmett's eyes glowed passionately. He was an enthusiastic Mercedes lover.

"Yeah, I saw one in black the other day when I was leaving work. It's a nice car, man," Jasper said.

"I was meaning to ask," Dad cut in as the waitress placed his beer in front of him. "Did you speak to Jenks about the contract for the house?"

I grabbed some peanuts from a bowl, popping one into my mouth. "Yeah, he's working on it."

Emmett grinned knowingly. "Dad showed me some pictures. That is one heck of a home you're buying. I bet Bella loves it."

"She does." I smiled.

"What about you?" Jasper wanted to know.

"Yeah, it's great," I replied sincerely. "I can't wait to start working on it. I want to add a pool."

"Alice and I looked at a few houses but couldn't find anything."

"Look at baby brother being all grown up," Emmett teased, slapping him on the back. "Alice has you so fucking whipped; doesn't she?"

Jasper sighed heavily. "I'm going to start ignoring you now."

"Oh, come on. That's how big brothers are."

"Complete douches?"

Emmett laughed, ruffling his overgrown hair. "No, you little shit; I just like teasing you."

Jasper batted his hand away, shoving his raised "fuck off" finger in his _big brother's_ face. "Tease this."

Dad groaned, and we all laughed. I wanted to ask him about his private conversation with Karen, but refrained. Some other time maybe.

It was now time for the boys to relax and watch some playoffs.

_~~ 0 ~~_

Thursday, January 24th, I woke up to Isabella's insistent nudging. With a low groan of protest, I cracked open one eye, only to be met with the bright glare of the digital clock. The little red numbers read 1:45 a.m., and I sighed, closing my eyes again.

"Edward," Isabella whispered furiously.

"Mmmm," I murmured sleepily, trying to focus on the sound of her voice. The wool comforter was still wrapped around me snuggly, and for a few seconds, I fell back into a light slumber.

"Edward, get up!" she said more urgently, hitting my shoulder.

"What is it?" I turned towards her, pushing back my annoyance at being jolted awake in the middle of the night.

Her expression immediately catapulted me into alertness. "I think my water just broke."

"Shit!" I exclaimed; jumping to my feet and staring at her, horrified.

"Help me up, I need to go to the bathroom," she demanded, holding out her hand. I grabbed it, gently pulling her to a standing position.

Her pajamas and the bed linens were soaked, and I steeled myself, trying hard not to panic. _Fuck m__e!_ I was definitely not prepared for this. I mean, I wanted to finally meet Matthew, but_ this_ was extremely overwhelming. And to think it was only the beginning...

In my haste to take her to the bathroom, I managed to grab my phone from the nightstand and dial security.

"What are you doing?" Isabella asked, breathing through her nose.

"Calling Dave to let him know we're leaving," I murmured, giving her a concerned look. Dave and Aaron were our new ex-army bodyguards, courtesy of Jenks. They worked 24 hour shifts, and tonight, Dave was on duty.

"Bring me some clothes and grab the bag I packed for the baby; it's in the walk-in closet," Isabella ordered, starting to remove her pajamas.

_"Mr. Cullen,"_ Dave picked up, his voice gritty with sleep.

"Dave, we're leaving for the hospital; my wife's water broke," I announced, and could hear him scramble out of bed with a loud thud. He was just a few feet away in one of the guest bedrooms.

_"I'll be right out, sir."_

I grabbed Isabella's bag from the closet, placing it in the middle of the bed as I continued to search for clothes. I took out the first comfortable-looking things I could get my hands on: a pair of pink sweatpants and one of my oversized hoodies. When I stepped back into the bathroom, she was sitting on the toilet, naked, her arms around her belly.

"Should you be doing that? I asked apprehensively.

She gave me an amused look, although her chest was heaving. "What, peeing?"

"Yeah, I mean..." I trailed off, feeling stupid in my childish concern.

"I'm not going to drop the baby into the toilet, Edward." She let out a breathless chuckle, beckoning me. "Help me get dressed."

I helped her back up, kissing her forehead. "Are you freaking out?"

"A little," she admitted. "Are you?"

"Yeah, can't you tell?"

Before she could answer, her face morphed into a grimace as she leaned forward. "Shiiiit."

"Maybe we should hurry up," I suggested, feeling the calm I was trying to force on myself slipping away.

A few minutes later, we were exiting the apartment with Dave's massive form trailing behind us. Once in the car, he climbed behind the wheel, and I helped Isabella in the backseat.

"Easy, baby," I said in a soft voice, bending at the waist to help her fold her feet into the car. When she was settled, I closed her door and rounded the car to the other side, sliding in beside her.

She tapped my knee, her breath labored. "Call Dr. Clark."

I did, and not even ten minutes later, we were pulling up in the hospital's parking lot. Luckily for us, Dr. Clark was working the night shift in ER, so when we stepped into the maternity ward, she was already waiting for us, armed with a wheelchair.

"George will take you to your room," she addressed Isabella, gesturing towards the male nurse waiting patiently near the admissions desk. "You'll be given a hospital gown to change into, so please do. I'll be with you shortly." Then she motioned me over to the admissions desk, pushing some papers in front of me. "Read these then sign them. She'll be in room 405."

I frowned, looking down at the paperwork in front of me and trying not to focus on Isabella being wheeled away. A few minutes later, I was done, and one of the nurses led me to my wife's room. She was sat up in bed, wearing a hideous hospital gown and a concentrated expression on her face.

"Twenty minutes apart, you say?" a petite nurse asked, checking her watch.

"Yeah." Isabella nodded. "Maybe a bit less."

"Hey," I said, smiling at her as I stepped into the room.

"Hey." She reached out for me, and I grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it.

"I'll be back," the nurse announced with a reassuring smile before departing.

"This is it," Isabella whispered, her eyes glowing with happiness. "Matthew's coming."

I leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Yeah; I can't wait to meet him."

The actual birth scared me a bit, but I wasn't about to tell her that; she needed my moral support. Instead, I took out my phone and occupied myself with placing a few calls: to Kate, Angela, Dad, Jasper, and Emmett.

Five minutes passed, then ten... twenty...

Dr. Clark came to check in on us a couple of times, making sure everything was going as it should have been. She was watching Isabella closely due to the pre-eclampsia and said things were progressing quite quickly, but that all looked good.

I was both excited and a nervous wreck. Isabella kept walking up and down the room under the nurse's close scrutiny. I massaged her feet, brought her water when she needed it, and practically did everything she asked of me.

Minutes turned to hours, and the waiting began to take its toll on both of us. I never would've guessed the whole process of giving birth was going to be so... strenuous.

At about 7:00 a.m. Isabella's contractions were mere seconds apart. She was propped up on her hands and knees on the bed, having opted for that birthing position, breathing heavily. I stood beside the bed, rubbing her back and doing the little I could to soothe her. Every once in a while she would let out a pained whimper, followed by a comment along the lines of "_okay, I'm done; let's go home_" or "_I changed my mind; I don't want to do this anymore_."

Nurses were fretting, constantly watching her blood pressure, which thankfully was holding its own; Dr. Clark's pager beeped incessantly, not to mention that my phone kept vibrating in my pocket, and for a brief moment I felt completely overcome by the situation.

And then the most amazing thing happened... After one final, hard push, a shrill cry filled the room, and everyone let out a sigh of relief. Isabella fell against the pillows, her face red from the exertion. Despite what she'd been through during her relatively short but intense five-hour labor, she managed to smile. I was in awe of her.

"You did it, baby," I whispered in a hoarse voice, kissing and stroking her hair over and over. "I'm so proud of you."

"Here he is," Dr. Clark announced, walking over to me with Matthew bundled up in blue cloth. "Mr. Cullen, meet your beautiful baby boy."

My hands trembled as I held my son for the first time. He was so small and fragile. I looked down at him, and immediately felt this incredible surge of unconditional love and protectiveness flow through me. I was mesmerized. It was amazing how just a moment could change your life forever. In that instant, I knew I loved him more than I did myself, and that I would do anything for him. I was a changed man. I was a father.

A feeling of completeness rocked me to my very core, and I had to fight the tears that were threatening to form. I could hardly believe that after years of waiting, my most ardent desire had finally come to fruition. I had a child; a son. Matthew was real, and I was holding him in my arms. Our family was complete. The elation I felt couldn't be measured into words. I could've died that very moment, and I would've died a happy man with a stupid grin frozen on my face.

"Let me see him, Daddy," Isabella said from the bed, reaching out for him.

I placed Matthew in her arms with a reluctant sigh. I already felt greedy for the time I had with him.

Isabella smiled down at him tiredly. "Wow, he looks so much like you."

"He does?" I asked, unable to hide the pride in my voice.

"Yeah." She caressed his tiny head. "He's going to be the spitting image of you, I can tell."

"We'll have to wait and see until he grows up a little." I sat on the edge of the bed, placing my arm around her shoulders, and we both looked down at our son with adoration.

"My little Matthew," she whispered, kissing his little fists. He yawned, angling his head towards Isabella.

"I can't believe this is actually happening," I confessed, shaking my head.

Isabella looked at me, her eyes full of unshed tears. "I love you."

I could feel my heart teetering on the edge of exploding with emotion. "I love you, too, baby. Both of you."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Two days later, we were allowed to take Matthew home. Isabella was relieved. She couldn't wait to sleep in her own bed, and I was looking forward to spending some quality time with my son and wife. Constantly being surrounded by medical staff and family members wasn't exactly my idea of peace and quiet. I craved being able to pick up my son and sit in a rocking chair without being interrupted by some nurse or an overly eager Emmett. Kate had also been around almost 24/7, making my time with Matthew quite limited. Everyone wanted to hold him, so between nurses, Kate, and the rest of the family, Isabella and I felt deprived of our little one.

While Jess helped Isabella pack Matthew's things, Emmett and I stood near the window, discussing the upcoming renovations of our new home.

"Almost two million, huh?" he breathed incredulously. "Sheesh."

"Yeah, but it's worth every penny," I stated with conviction. "I'll admit the contractor I hired is pretty expensive, but I want the house to look completely transformed by the time he's done with it. I've seen his work and I think he's going to do one hell of a job."

"That's a total of seven million."

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Well, I'm glad for you. And by the way, you look really happy."

I smiled. "I _am_ happy."

He placed his large hand on my shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "I like seeing you like this, bro."

Despite our many differences in the past, I believed him.

"I think we're done here," Isabella announced quietly.

Emmett turned around, grinning at her. "When can I come visit my nephew?"

She chuckled at his enthusiasm. "Anytime you want, Uncle Em."

"Not too soon, though," I added quickly, and Isabella threw me a disapproving look.

Emmett didn't seem bothered in the least. "Don't worry, I get it. Rose and I were desperate for some time alone with Jess when she was born."

Jess grinned at her dad. "Wasn't I the cutest baby?"

"Yes, you were, my little princess," he replied cheekily, holding his hand out to her.

She rolled her eyes at him, but snuggled into his side nonetheless. He kissed the top of her head, and Isabella let out a longing sigh.

"Time for us to go," Emmett said, stroking his daughter's long hair. "I have to take Jess to her dance classes."

Isabella smiled at their loving interaction. "Thanks for stopping by."

"Give Matthew a big kiss from me, Auntie B," Jess said playfully, causing Isabella to shake her head in amusement at the nickname.

"Will do, Jess."

They left, and I stepped towards Isabella, wrapping my arms around her middle. "Let's go home," I whispered in her hair. "With our son," I added reverently as I took in the marvel that was our Matthew.

She let out an eager groan. "Yes, let's. I can't wait to get a good night's sleep."

"I doubt you'll be able to get any uninterrupted sleep for a while," I teased. "Wailing times are coming."

She turned to me with a wide smile. "I know, but I'm going to love every second of it."

_~~ 0 ~~_

Later, as we reached my car, Aaron unlocked the trunk and placed our bags inside. I held the baby car seat carrier, where our son slept peacefully, and opened the passenger door with my free hand for Isabella to climb in.

"Edwaaaard," someone let out a guttural cry behind me. "You fucking cocksucker!"

I turned around just as Aaron stepped in front of me, blocking my view. "Hey, stop right there!"

I didn't need to see the person to realize it was James.

_Fuck_.

For the first time since hiring security, I was glad I'd had the common sense to listen to Jenks' advice.

"Isabella, take Matthew," I urged, placing the carrier in her lap and closing the door gently, trying not to wake up the baby. She started to say something, but I was already stepping around Aaron, finally coming face-to-face with James.

"I see you and your cunt of a wife had your fucking baby," he spat, the words coming out slurred as he swayed on his feet. "It's an ugly baby, by the way... looks exactly like you."

"What do you want, you asshole?" I gritted, starting to get really fucking mad at his audacity.

His face contorted into a hateful expression. "I want to shoot you between the eyes and rip your fucking limbs apart, that's what I want. What the fuck did you do to me?"

"I did what I should've done a long time ago," I replied, glaring at him. "This is what you get for messing with me."

"You think you can fuck with my life, huh? You motherfucker!" he yelled, outraged, starting to get red in the face. "I'm going to _destroy_ you."

"Sir, keep your distance," Aaron warned, and I could tell he was getting tense.

James laughed mockingly. "You hired yourself a gorilla, you fucking pussy? Are you afraid of me or what?"

"Just ignore him, sir," Aaron advised wisely. "He's baiting you."

"I know that." I nodded, keeping my eyes on the lunatic in front of me. Suddenly, I had this sinking feeling that something horrible was about to happen. And yet, I couldn't seem to help myself. "You know what else I know, James?"

"Enlighten me," he gritted, his jaw clenched.

"I know you're a pathetic son of a bitch who got exactly what he deserved."

A diabolical grin appeared on his face. He looked like evil incarnate. "Oh yeah?"

I jutted out my chin in defiance. "Yeah."

"What about what you deserve, _cuz_?"

Before I could even process what was happening, he reached into his back pocket, drawing out a gun.

It was then Isabella's horrified scream reached my ears, and I stared in shock, unable to move.

* * *

><p><strong>AN Please don't hate me? :D**

**Thank you for reading!**

**~Andreea~**


	37. Chapter 36: Felicitous

**A/N I heart Mid Night-Cougar!**

**We're nearing the end...**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 36<strong>

**Isabella POV**

* * *

><p><em>~ January 27<em>_th__, 2013 ~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

I stared out the window with trepidation, watching the muted interaction between James and my husband. James looked drunk and incredibly pissed off, which wasn't surprising given the circumstances. He swayed on his feet as he gestured wildly with his hands, disturbing the quiet winter air around him. Matthew was sleeping peacefully in his car seat carrier, and I stole a quick glance at him before redirecting my attention to the arguing men outside.

I knew something like this was bound to happen at some point. James had a vindictive nature, and Edward's offensive tactics weren't going to be taken lightly. But honestly, this had to be the shittiest moment for picking a fight. Matthew was barely two days old, I was sleep deprived, and Edward wasn't doing any better. Our son's birth had taken its toll on both of us, and we just needed some rest and quality time with our family's newest member. But apparently, that wasn't going to happen any time soon.

Suddenly, James' expression morphed into one of pure hatred. Before I could even process what was happening, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small gun. My voice surpassed my brain, and I let out a shrill cry as a feeling of utter despair seized me. Matthew was jolted awake by my scream and started wailing, his little lungs pushing out more decibels than the confined interior of the BMW could handle. Instinctively, I wrapped an arm around the carrier as I began rocking it in a soothing motion, but my eyes remained glued to the frightening scene outside.

James pointed the gun at Edward, but Aaron was faster. He practically ripped his gun from its holster, and in the next second, James was lying face-down on the cold ground; his abrupt fall preceded by a deafening gunshot.

"Edward!" I yelled desperately, opening the door and trying to get out of the car with Matthew's carrier in my arms.

"Isabella, stay in the car!" he shouted hoarsely, his eyes wild as he turned around to face me. He managed to look both scared and positively livid.

Just a few feet away, James lay in a pool of his own blood, and I had to look away before my stomach revolted at the sight and compelled me to expel my breakfast. He wasn't moving at all.

"Oh, my God," I whimpered, pulling back obediently and closing the door. My entire body was shaking uncontrollably. Matthew was still agitated, and I tried to focus on him. "Shhh. It's okay, baby," I whispered in a quivering voice as I stroked his cheek with my finger. "Mommy's here." His tiny face was scrunched up in a tormented expression, and I leaned down, placing a kiss on his creased forehead. "It's okay; Daddy's okay."

Despite my words of reassurance, I had to glance out the window to make sure my husband was still in one piece. Both Edward and Aaron were now standing above James' immobile form, looking down at him with a myriad of emotions crossing their faces. A nurse, a doctor, a couple of paramedics, and a few patients burst through the doors of the maternity ward, no doubt alerted by the gunshot. The doctor, a woman in her forties, started jogging towards the scene of a possible homicide. I watched as she knelt beside James and looked for a pulse. Then she raised her head and yelled something at the two approaching paramedics. One of them turned around and ran back inside.

The seconds passed by agonizingly slow. The doctor began speaking with Aaron, her face giving up nothing. Then, the paramedic emerged with a stretcher, and they all proceeded to lift James on it. I wrung my hands nervously as I followed them with my eyes. They pushed the stretcher through the gathering crowd, and not even five minutes after he'd been shot, James was in safe hands.

Matthew had calmed down completely by now, and all I could do was wait. Edward and Aaron seemed to be having a tense conversation. Minutes later, the doctor appeared again, and Aaron followed her inside the hospital. Edward watched them disappear behind the sliding doors, before pulling out his phone for a short call. Then he turned around and headed towards the car.

My mind felt numb. I was having a difficult time comprehending what had happened. I knew what I'd witnessed, and yet, it all seemed surreal.

"Is he dead?" I blurted out as soon as he opened the back door. My hands were still shaking, and I forced myself to calm down somewhat by taking a deep breath.

His expression was grim. "No, but it looks like the bullet severed his carotid artery."

"Where did Aaron go?"

"The police have arrived; he's speaking to an officer."

I gasped. "Is he being charged with something?"

Edward shook his head, glancing towards his son. "No, I don't think so. It was self-defense," he said with a heavy sigh. "Emmett's on his way back. He's going to take you and Matthew home, okay?"

"What about you?" I reached for his hand and kissed his palm. I felt so relieved he was unharmed. I would've died if it were him with a severed carotid instead of James.

"The police need my statement," he spoke softly, caressing my cheek. "It's going to be a while, and I don't want you here any longer than necessary."

I nodded in understanding, and he leaned down to plant a firm kiss on my lips. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his green eyes reflecting the agony inside.

"I love you," I replied instead. "I don't blame you for anything."

To my dismay, he didn't look convinced. We waited in silence for Emmett to make an appearance. I rocked Matthew's carrier until he fell asleep again, my mind an amalgam of reflections and emotions. Edward was still standing beside the car, lost to his own dark thoughts, when his brother's Mercedes pulled up next to us. Emmett climbed out, his eyes immediately taking in the fresh blood staining the discolored concrete. A few snowflakes had started to fall; the gray sky fitted for this ominous day.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded urgently, practically sprinting towards us.

"Fucking James happened," Edward spat; his voice laced with disgust.

Emmett stopped in front of his brother and hesitated. "Is he dead?"

"Not yet," Edward answered darkly.

"Who shot him?"

"Aaron did. Isabella will fill you in," Edward answered, glancing towards the hospital doors. A cop stepped out, carrying what looked like a black notepad.

Emmett nodded, looking relieved to hear the news. He reached for the carrier. "I'll take Mattie."

I climbed out of the car on shaky legs, standing up on my toes to give Edward a kiss. "Please come back to me in one piece."

"I will," he assured me with a hurried kiss of his own, before turning around and heading towards the approaching cop.

Emmett helped me into the back seat of his Mercedes, placing Matthew's carrier beside me on the white leather upholstery. He then got behind the wheel, and as he drove us out of the hospital's parking lot, I couldn't help looking out the back window to where Edward and the cop were deep in conversation. When they were out of sight, I turned back into my seat.

"Are you okay?" Emmett asked, his soft tone veiling the anger in his voice.

"I didn't end up shot, so I guess I'm okay," I said with a sigh.

"That motherfucker. You just wait until I can get my hands on him," he threatened.

I looked at my son, fast asleep in his forest green carrier, and felt immensely grateful and relieved he didn't end up hurt by James' madness. "That's assuming he'll live."

"I hope he will so I can kill him myself."

"I can't believe he actually had a gun on him," I whispered, absently caressing Matthew's little head.

Emmett's phone rang, and he picked it up promptly. "Yeah, babe?"His eyes burned with silent rage as they met mine in the rear-view mirror. "Did she now?" he murmured, watching me with certain cautiousness. "Yeah, they're fine. Look, I have to take Bella home; can I call you later?" He nodded to himself, averting his gaze. "Okay, love you, too."

"Rosalie knows," I stated, matter-of-factly, when he hung up.

"She knows something happened," he replied quietly. "Jess let her know. I was dropping her off when Edward called."

The rest of the drive was silent. Knowing Edward was safe was reassuring, and I found myself thinking about Aaron and the charges he might face. It made me feel horrible that a person who barely even knew us was about to take the heat for our family's personal matters. But even though my husband wasn't the most righteous man on Earth, I was willing to bet he wasn't going to allow someone else to suffer the consequences of his actions. As for James... I only hoped he got what he deserved.

As we entered the apartment, sometime later, Emmett offered to make me some tea.

I gave him a tight smile, taking Matthew from him. "That would be great; thank you."

He set off towards the kitchen, removing his suit jacket as he went, and I took Matthew into the master bedroom. It was his first day home, and we couldn't even enjoy it. Everything we did seemed to turn against us, and I couldn't help but wonder what kind of perpetual curse the evil witch had _bestowed_ upon us.

_God_, I hated her so much. All of this was happening because of her.

Careful as not to wake Matthew, I placed him in the middle of the bed and started to remove the heavy winter clothes he had on. When I was done, Emmett entered the room with a steaming mug.

"Here you are." He handed me the floral mug with the teabag still in, and I took it gratefully.

"Thanks, Em."

He nodded, sitting next to me on the bed. "I hope you don't mind, but Rosalie's on her way here."

"Oh," I exhaled, unsure of how to react to such news.

"I told her what happened, and she was worried," he added quickly.

"Okay," I said, trying to sound neutral. She was my sister-in-law, and I told myself she only wanted to help. At least I hoped she did.

"He looks a lot like Edward, doesn't he?" Emmett observed, his eyes fixing his nephew.

"Yeah, he does." I chuckled. "Edward's deliriously happy about it."

"I bet he is." He grinned, stroking Matthew's clothed foot. "He's a quiet little guy. In that regard I think he's more like you than his loud-mouthed dad."

"Yeah." I smiled down at him. "Although, I'm secretly hoping he inherits his father's fiery personality."

Emmett laughed quietly. "I don't know about that, Bella. Edward can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."

"Was it hard for you being a big brother?" I inquired curiously.

"To him? Yeah, definitely. Jasper was always quiet and easy to get along with. But Edward... man, I felt like beating his ass up eighty percent of the time we were in the same room."

"Was he that bad?"

"He was... still is." He shook his head, looking like he was reminiscing. "He always talked back to me, which I hated. Plus, he pulled a lot of stupid shit, and I was the one who had to cover up for him."

"Like what?" I wanted to know. Any distraction was welcome right now; it kept my mind from playing out the earlier events in a loop.

"Like... one day in college, when I was a senior and he was a freshman, he broke a guy's nose because of some girl. Knowing my parents were going to go ballistic on him, because he always got into fights, I took the blame."

"How did you do that?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I threatened the other guy that if he ever told the truth, I was going to beat him up so badly, his parents weren't going to be able recognize him after I was done with him."

I had to chuckle at Emmett's bluntness. "What happened afterwards?"

"I went into detention for a month. Oh, and I kicked Edward's ass for being stupid."

"That's very insightful. Edward never told me that."

Emmett smirked knowingly. "Of course he didn't."

"It must have been hard on Jasper to grow up between two hot-headed big brothers," I mused.

"Oh, you have no idea." Emmett chuckled. "But on the good side, one of us always had his back. He got bullied a lot in middle school, and Edward was very protective of him."

"He still is," I noted. "As you are of Edward."

He nodded. "That is how it's always been."

We went on, talking about their childhood until Rosalie arrived. She offered to make dinner while we waited for Edward. At some point, Emmett insisted on changing Matthew's diaper, and I was amused he still remembered how to do it.

The rest of the wait was torture. I kept glancing at the clock every five minutes, wishing Edward would at least call. When I couldn't take it anymore, I grabbed my phone and texted him, but received no reply.

Rosalie made pot roast, and I watched her work, from time to time making small talk. She could tell my mind was wandering and didn't insist on carrying on an actual conversation. Emmett kept Matthew glued to his chest, walking around with him in his arms, talking to him like he could really understand, and showing him different stuff around the house when he was awake. It was endearing, and it made me wonder why he and Rosalie never had more children.

Around 4:00 p.m. we were all gathered in the living room, when the front door opened and Edward stepped in with Dave in tow. Rosalie was holding Matthew for the first time, so I got up from the armchair I was sitting on, as quickly as I could, and hurried into Edward's arms.

"Hey." He kissed my hair, his arms wrapping around me tightly.

"Where's Aaron?" I questioned, glancing past him at Dave.

"I sent him home."

I pulled back slightly, looking up at him with concern. "Is he going to be okay?"

He nodded. "Yeah. No matter what happens to James, he was acting in defense of his client. The law will side with him. Besides, Aaron is properly licensed to carry his weapon whilst James wasn't."

"You mean he didn't have a permit?" I was shocked and relieved at the same time.

"Exactly. And to top it all off, he was drunk and high on heroin."

"Jesus," Emmett breathed incredulously.

"Is he going to survive?" Rosalie intervened; her voice devoid of emotion.

"The doctors are skeptical about it," Edward said, pulling me towards the couch. He didn't look surprised to see her there. "His condition is quite serious."

I sat on his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Do you want him to die?" I asked quietly.

"You don't really want me to answer that, do you?" he replied darkly.

No, I didn't, because I already knew the answer. But did that make him a bad man?

No, it didn't; James was the evil one here.

Dave excused himself, before disappearing into one of the guest bedrooms.

"I just can't believe how far his revenge went. If Aaron wasn't there..." I trailed off, shaking my head to chase away those thoughts.

"Don't think about it. That's exactly why we got security in the first place." Edward stroked my upper arm soothingly. "James is insane and if he doesn't die, I hope someone has the common sense to lock him away in a mental facility."

I sighed. "Do you think his parents know?"

"His father was at the hospital."

My eyes widened as I pictured a distraught Mr. Hall getting into a violent argument with Edward. "Did he say anything to you?"

Edward hesitated for the briefest of seconds. "No."

"You're not lying to me, are you?" I almost whispered, fixing him with my eyes. I knew him well enough to realize he wasn't telling me the whole truth.

"I'm not. I promise."

Promise or not, it looked like there was more than he was actually letting on.

_~~ 0 ~~_

That night, I woke up to the feeling that something, or better said, _someone_, was missing. Glancing at the digital clock, I saw it was three minutes after 2:00 a.m. The crib was empty and so was Edward's side of the bed. Carefully swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I got up, in search of my boys.

As suspected, there was a dim light coming from the nursery, and I pushed the door open, poking my head inside. Edward sat in the blue polka dot rocking chair, his protective arms cradling our son.

"Hey, Daddy," I whispered, my heart swelling with love and adoration at the sight.

He lifted his head and offered me a tired smile. "Hey."

"You two look good together," I observed, stepping into the room and making my way over to them.

"We do?"

"Yes, you do, my two handsome men." I leaned down to place a soft kiss on Edward's forehead before gently running my finger over Matthew's rosy cheek. He was fast sleep in the confines of his father's secure arms. "How long have you been here?"

He stole a quick glance at his watch. "A couple of hours, I think."

"You should rest. You look really tired."

He nodded, but made no move to get up, his eyes once again trained on the bundle he was holding. "I like holding him."

I smiled indulgently. "You know, he's going to get used to sleeping in your arms if you keep this up."

"I don't mind."

"He has to sleep in his crib, Daddy," I said with a soft sigh. "He's been home a mere few hours and you're spoiling him already."

Edward gave a half-shrug. "I know, but I can't help it."

I reached down for Matthew, and he reluctantly gave him to me, making sure to pepper his little forehead with a couple of kisses before doing so.

"Come to bed with me," I coaxed, starting to walk towards to the door. "I miss sleeping in your arms."

"Okay," he responded simply, standing and following me into our bedroom.

Matthew's crib sat at the foot of the bed, and I gently placed him into it, trying not to disturb his sleep. So far, we considered ourselves lucky; our son seemed like a pretty quiet baby. He only cried when he was hungry or something really bothered him, but when that happened, the entire building became aware of its new resident.

I gazed down at him and stroked his head, vaguely aware of the silly smile tugging at my lips every time I laid eyes on him. I was so incredibly enamored with my son; I would've never suspected I was capable of such intense feelings. I loved my husband as a lover, as a friend, as my other half. But this was different. The love I had for Matthew was so _fierce _and selfless, I felt like I was capable of just about anything for him. He was the best thing that had happened to me since meeting Edward, and I was unable to picture my life without him in it.

Edward came to stand behind me, his arms circling my waist. "You smell good," he murmured, burying his nose into my hair.

I chuckled, leaning back against him. "I had a shower, remember?"

"It's not that." His voice became thicker, laced with unmistakable desire. "You used that lotion I like."

"I might have." I wiggled my ass against his front, and he let out a heavy sigh.

"Are you trying to seduce me?"

I turned into his arms, wrapping mine around his neck. "Nope."

He smiled knowingly, his eyes drifting towards my not-so-modest tank top. "I think you are."

"Okay, so what if I am?" I asked in a playful tone of voice, mostly because it made me feel good that he still found me attractive after childbirth.

He kissed me briefly before whispering against my lips. "You know I won't be able to touch you for at least six weeks. Stop being a tease."

"But I love teasing you," I whispered back.

He shook his head, amused. "Don't make me spank you for being naughty."

"Mmmm..." I raised my head for another kiss, which he granted me eagerly. His body was warm and familiar, and I wished I could've stayed pressed against his chest for days in a row.

When he finally pulled back and guided me towards the bed, he looked very _stimulated_. "These are going to be six extremely long weeks."

I chuckled, shaking my head at him as we climbed into bed.

Twenty minutes later, we were both still wide awake. I was exhausted, and yet, couldn't seem to fall back asleep.

"Still thinking about what happened?" Edward whispered into my hair, his hand caressing my stomach.

"Yeah," I murmured.

"Me too."

I sighed. "When is all this going to end, Edward? No matter what we do, we can't seem to catch a break."

"I don't know, baby," he replied. "I honestly don't know."

Turning around to face him, I saw his eyes glowing in the dark. "I meant what I said earlier today. I don't blame you."

He stroked my hair lovingly. "I know you don't, but you should. I've made so many mistakes..."

I shook my head. "We all make mistakes. We're a family now; we'll get over this together."

"You're so strong," he said softly, almost sounding like he was in awe of me. "I don't deserve you."

I smiled, but didn't reply. I didn't know whether he deserved me or even if I deserved him. All I knew was that_ he_ made me strong. Despite all the drama, I was never going to regret meeting him. He was my one true love; the father of my child. He'd given me a family, passionate love, both emotional and financial support, a beautiful home, and above all, wonderful memories. He'd given me his all, good and bad, and for that reason, he was the imperfect, perfectly fitted man for me.

_~~ 0 ~~_

The next morning, bright and early, Edward got a call from Jenks. I was perched up on the bed feeding Matthew, while Edward paced the length of our bedroom, his ear glued to his phone.

"Okay, thanks," he said after a few minutes of complete silence, during which he listened intently. "Let me know how things progress."

"What's wrong?" I asked, watching as he ended the call and sat down in an armchair across from me. He had his flannel pants on, his hair still bearing the traces of last night's restless sleep.

"James is dead," he replied simply. "He died last night."

"Oh, my God." I gasped. "How..."

"Heart failure," he explained promptly.

"Was it because of the drugs or the gunshot wound?"

"Both." His voice was flat, and I could tell he was neither happy nor upset with James' death. He simply seemed to accept it for what it was. _Fate_.

I, for one, felt a little shaken. I hated James with a passion, too, but I'd never really wished for him to die. Not like this, anyway. He had clearly been unstable for a long time, and it made me feel a bit sad that no one had ever done anything to help him. Not even his parents.

"I never thought we'd get to this point," I whispered with a frown.

"Honestly? Me neither," Edward replied, just as the intercom buzzed. He stood, starting to walk out of the room. "I'll get it."

I sat still, staring into space and trying to imagine what was going to happen next. Edward was back not even a minute later.

"Who was it?" I asked, as he went straight for his chest of drawers.

"Dad is on his way up," he said hurriedly, pulling out a t-shirt and covering his naked torso.

"Why?" I inquired, panic seizing me instantly as the worst scenarios possible invaded my mind. Edward had assured me nothing was going to happen to him from a legal standpoint, but I was still scared for him.

He shook his head. "I have no idea, but it must be urgent if he came over here at 8:00 a.m. instead of calling."

Edward left the room once again, and I glanced down at Matthew. He was done nursing, his little face set in a peaceful expression as he slept. After burping him, I got up slowly and placed him into his crib before pulling on my robe and following after my husband.

"Dad, are you alright?" I heard Edward ask, the concern evident in his voice.

"Read this." Carlisle thrust a piece of paper in his son's hand, just as I was walking into the living room.

"Carlisle," I said in greeting.

"Isabella." He nodded, but looked distracted. "I apologize for the early hour."

Edward unfolded the paper, read it and frowned. "_Don't look for me_. What is this?"

"It's a note from your mother," Carlisle said matter-of-factly.

Edward looked at his father, his eyes hardening. "How do you know? It's not signed."

"Who else could it be? Besides, it's her handwriting."

He sighed heavily, looking like he really didn't want to be dealing with this. "What do you want me to do about it, Dad?"

Carlisle ran an exasperated hand through his graying hair. "I don't know. I just thought you had to see it since it arrived shortly after Hall's death last night."

Edward's interest was piqued. "Who brought it to you?"

"Miriam found it on the foyer table around 3:00 a.m. It was in an envelope with my name on it," his father explained. "I keep thinking... what if she harms herself?"

"I really don't think she would, Dad," Edward assured him. "Come on, you know her. She likes to put on a show, but she wouldn't do anything to truly harm herself."

"Does this mean she left the city?" I inquired softly, capturing both men's attention.

Edward shrugged. "It could be. Although, I'm more concerned about her lack of reaction towards James' death than anything else."

"Why?"

_I would've thought this to be a good thing..._

"I don't know. I just have a bad feeling about it."

Carlisle seemed to agree with his son as he gave a stiff nod. After a moment of hesitation, he spoke again. "Do you think she really loved him?"

Edward puffed out a deriding snort. "I don't think she's capable of truly loving anyone but herself. My advice to you, Dad, is to let go. Live your life, and forget about her. I can guarantee she's already forgotten about us."

"Yeah," Carlisle agreed softly, his brow furrowing.

"How's Karen?" Edward quickly changed the subject.

Carlisle's lips stretched into a slight smile, his demeanor immediately changing. "Actually, I'm having brunch with her in about an hour. I'm helping her with some legal matter."

"Who's Karen?" I looked to both of them for an answer.

"She's an old friend," Carlisle replied quickly, and if I wasn't mistaken, he was starting to look... flustered.

Edward's eyes penetrated his father's with keen awareness. "Is she back in town for good?"

"Mmhmm," Carlisle murmured, distracting himself by glancing at his watch.

"I guess that means you're not staying for Susan's delicious Spanish omelet."

"I'd love to, but I can't." He smiled tightly, turning his attention to me. "How's my grandson?"

"He's sleeping."

"Can I see him for a bit?"

"Yeah, sure." I gestured towards the general direction of the master bedroom. He started heading that way, and I followed behind him, not before throwing my husband an inquisitive glance over my shoulder. He was staring down at the note in his hand, a pensive look on his handsome face.

_~~ 0 ~~_

"I think he's hungry," Edward said, rocking a crying Matthew in his arms.

I reached for him. "Come to Mommy."

Sitting on the couch, I removed the strap on my tank top, freeing my right breast. I was still having a bit of a problem getting the little guy to latch on correctly, but we were getting there.

"It's fascinating," Edward observed, watching the feeding process attentively.

I smiled up at him. "What is?"

"The fact that you can feed him like that is," he replied, nodding to our son, who was now happily sucking on what was turning out to be his favorite breast. "Not to mention that you carried him inside your body for nine months."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," I agreed contently. "Sometimes I too marvel at what my body can do."

"Let's have lots of kids," he suggested; his eyes warm and his tone of voice unmistakable. He wasn't going to settle for only one child.

I chuckled, shaking my head at him. "Don't get too carried away. I'm not sure I want more than two."

Edward smiled but said nothing. By the look on his face, I was willing to bet he was mentally calculating how soon he could get me knocked up again… and again.

I stared down at my son and ran the tip of my finger over his barely-there eyebrows. His hair looked visibly darker than Edward's, and I suspected he was going to inherit my color. His skin was porcelain white and his eyes looked the typical newborn blue, so I couldn't quite tell what color they were going to end up eventually. Though, his mouth and little nose were all Edward; anyone could see it from a mile away.

"He's so small and fragile," I said adoringly. "Sometimes I'm afraid I'll hurt him if I hold or touch him in a certain way."

"Me too." Edward sat down beside me, resting his arm on the back of the couch behind me. "Did you think about my proposal?"

I looked up at him questioningly. "About hiring a nanny?"

"Yeah."

"I did," I said vaguely.

"And?" he pressed.

I sighed. "I have a few exams coming up in a couple of weeks, and I'd like to be able to study for them. But…"

He frowned, not understanding. "But what?"

"I don't know how I feel about having some strange woman take care of my child."

"Ah," he concluded simply. "So, you're not too keen on the idea."

"Not really."

"Then who's going to stay with Matthew when you're at school?" He gave me a pointed look.

I shrugged noncommittally. "I don't know. I'll figure something out."

"Baby…" Edward exhaled softly.

"I'll talk to Angela," I added quickly. "Maybe she knows someone who's trustworthy."

He looked like he wanted to argue, but didn't. "As you wish."

"Thank you," I said, leaning over to give him a brief kiss.

_~~ 0 ~~_

A few days later, I was eating lunch alone in the kitchen, when Edward's phone started ringing loudly from somewhere in the house. He was taking a shower, preparing to head into the office for a few hours, and I ignored it, thinking whoever it was could wait until he came out. After a little while the ringing stopped, and I went back to savoring the last bites of my meal. I didn't like being nosy anyway. His phone was private, and I had no business answering his calls, unless, of course, it was an emergency.

Not even a minute later, the damn thing began ringing again even more insistently, and it crossed my mind it could actually be an emergency. Abandoning my almost empty plate, I got up from the table to hunt it down. I found it in Edward's study and stared at the unknown number flashing on the display before reluctantly picking up.

"Hello?" I answered, hoping it wasn't one of Edward's clients.

"Who is this?" A deep masculine voice greeted me from the other end of the line.

"I'm sorry, but I think I should be the one asking that question."

"I need to speak with Edward Cullen," the man said more sharply. "Is this his number?"

_How rude_, I thought.

"Yes, it is," I replied in kind. "I'm his wife. Edward's busy at the moment. Can I help you?"

"Have him call me on this number as soon as possible," the man demanded impatiently. "My name is Friedrich Hall."

The line went dead immediately after that, and I stared at the wall in front of me in shock. James' father.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," Edward noticed with concern, as he stepped into the room wearing only a towel around his narrow hips. "I heard the phone ring. Who was it?"

"Friedrich Hall," I said, turning to face him. "Is that..."

His jaw set. "What did he want?"

"I don't know. He wanted to speak with you." I held the phone to him. "Edward, was that really James' father?"

"Yeah," he muttered, taking it from me and looking for the number. He dialed, pressed the phone to his ear and exited the study.

I followed right behind.

"Mr. Hall, Edward Cullen speaking," he said in his most business-like voice, as he walked into the living room. "Yes, I heard." He was quiet for a minute, listening to what Mr. Hall had to say. Then, all of a sudden, his face turned ashen. "What!" he exclaimed, looking like he was about to be sick. "What do you mean—" He was cut off, and he listened again intently. "That can't be."

I was starting to get scared at this point, a dozen scenarios flashing through my mind, each one worse than the others.

"I see," Edward said with finality after a couple more minutes. "Yes, we'll work something out. Goodbye."

I didn't even get the chance to ask what Mr. Hall had wanted before Edward's expression contorted into one of pure rage. "Motherfucker! I knew it. I fucking knew she was going to pull some kind of stupid shit."

"Edward, you're scaring me," I told him with a shaky voice, taking in his feral appearance. "What happened?"

"My fucking mother happened," he gritted, forcing himself to lower his voice. "She ran away with James' money. Every fucking penny."

_Oh. My. God._

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><p><strong>AN Opinions?**

**Thanks for reading!**

**~Andreea~**


	38. Chapter 37: Auspicious

**A/N Kudos to Mid Night-Cougar for being the bestest!**

**Also, this is the last official chapter. Next, there will be an epilogue in Bella's POV, and that's about it...**

**I can't believe it's almost over!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 37<strong>

**Edward POV**

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><p><em>~ February 1st, 2013 ~<em>

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

I sat in my office chair, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking an atypically uncongested downtown Chicago. With my fingers tented in front of me, I waited.

My mind wandered to my earlier phone conversation with Mr. Hall. After James' death, I had expected to hear from him at any given point. He'd given me all sorts of dirty, loaded looks at the hospital on the day of the shooting, but he had yet to address me, so I knew something was coming. What I really hadn't expected, was the reason for his call. Surprisingly enough, it turned out he hadn't contacted me in order to accuse me of his son's death, but rather throw in my face my mother's latest antics. I swore to God, the woman was relentless.

I had to admit to having a strange feeling, almost like a premonition, that morning my father came to show me her farewell note. I knew her unscrupulous ways all too well by now, and her hasty departure mixed with her lack of reaction towards her lover's sudden death, rang alarm bells. I knew she was up to no good. But fuck me running, I had never, in a million years, expected her to be so insanely sloppy in her chaotic train of actions. I mean, she _had_ to know what was going to happen to her once James' father found out about her running away with his son's money. Why take the risk? She was still well-off even after her divorce from my father.

_Maybe_, a little voice at the back of my mind whispered, _she's waiting for me to step in and rescue her, like a good, obedient son_. Little did she know how unlikely that was to happen. If this was some sort of desperate, last minute appeal to my faithfulness, she was about to be highly disappointed. I'd be lying if I denied not being _tempted_ to do it. That initial, stupid temptation was the reason I'd accepted this urgent meeting in the first place. I'd acted on impulse, under the stress of the moment, and now I found myself regretting it. Honestly, it was infuriating how much control a person like my mother still had on me. But today, I was going to put an end to it. I was determined; and nothing or no one would stop me. My mother was about to learn the hard way how little she meant to me anymore.

By his tone of voice when we'd had our short conversation, I gathered Mr. Hall had some sort of deal coming my way. Too bad for him, I didn't feel like closing deals on this particular day.

"I'm here to see Mr. Cullen." I heard the familiar voice floating over from the outer office.

"You're Mr. Hall?" Victoria asked in her usual, bored voice.

"Yes." His tone was clipped.

"Step right in. He's waiting for you."

Moments later, the light sound of approaching footsteps reached my ears. I turned around in my chair just as he stepped into my office.

"Edward," he greeted with a short nod of his head. He was dressed casually, in dark slacks and a gray trench coat, and I couldn't help notice how _unaffected_ he looked. You wouldn't have guessed he'd lost his only son a few days prior.

"Mr. Hall," I replied coolly, gesturing towards a plush chair across from me. "Have a seat."

"I'm fine standing," he refused, pushing his hands into his pants pockets.

"Would you like something to drink?" I continued with the unnecessary politeness, fully aware it wasn't going to do anything to sweeten the blow he was about to get. There was an almost sadistic part of me that enjoyed this scene. Mr. Hall, arrogant, stuck-up, old bastard, was here to ask for my cooperation in this delicate matter. There was no doubt about it. I could sense the desperation rolling off him in waves. Unfortunately for him, I now had a clear mind, despite being seized by panic that same morning.

"No." He huffed impatiently. "You already know why I'm here, so let's skip this meaningless small talk and go straight to the subject."

"Alright," I said, leaning back into my seat and motioning for him to go on.

"The issue at hand is very personal for the both of us. I lost my son at the hand of _your_ bodyguard, and _your _mother ran away with_ our_ family money," he accentuated the last possessive pronouns to make his point.

"Mr. Hall," I cut in, my tolerance for this man already reaching a dangerous limit. Just being in the same room as him made me want to punch something. "If the purpose of this meeting is to point fingers,_ I_ should be the one doing all the pointing. Let's not forget who started all this. _Your_ son got into a relationship with an older, married woman. You know why he did it? Not because he had feelings for her, but because he wanted to get back at me. He threatened to harm my wife and newborn child, and he probably would've succeeded if it weren't for the bodyguard. So, yeah, this _is_ very personal for the both of us."

He looked taken aback by my sudden accusation, but regained his posture immediately. "Look, Edward, I'm not here to discuss James' lack of judgment_. _Unlike my late son, I actually think before acting. Life is not black and white; there are a lot of grays thrown in there, and you should know that better than anyone. Sometimes you need to take a step back and carefully consider your options, and that's what I'm doing."

"Your point, Mr. Hall?" I pressed, looking forward to having him out of my office and my life.

"My point is," he said slowly; clearly. "I'll forget everything about your mother's little stunt with _my_ money, if you drop your accusations against me."

I nearly laughed at his audacity. Son of a bitch was here to save his own skin. It was ludicrous, and it literally made me sick. It was no wonder his son had been so messed up in the head and ended up the way he had.

"You mean the accusation that you bribed two lab technicians in order to get your son out of trouble?"

His jaw set. "Yes, that's exactly what I mean. You must realize this is going to end my career in the medical field. Believe it or not, I actually love what I do."

I remained silent for a few critical seconds, deliberately prolonging his distress. Then, I leaned with my elbows on my desk, looking him in the eye sharply. "You're out of your goddamned mind if you think I'm going to lift a single finger to help you, _sir_. Legally or financially."

"It's called reciprocity, son," he gritted.

"First of all, I'm not your son, and secondly, I have no interest in having any kind of reciprocal relationship with you."

His body posture screamed hostility as he contemplated his next words. "I see. Then I'll have to solve my conflict with your mother at the police station."

"Of course." I offered him my finest insincere smile, leaning back into my seat to keep myself in place. I wanted nothing more than to seriously maim him.

"Make no mistake, I _will_ ruin her life." Mr. Hall jabbed a shaky finger in my direction. He was livid. "She'll spend years in prison once they find her."

I nodded, doing my best to look serene, when in fact I was burning with rage inside. "I'm well aware of that."

He'd now exhausted his persuasive phrases, switching to more rudimentary terms. "You're a fucking asshole, you know that?" he spat, starting to quake with anger and frustration.

"I think it's time for you to leave, Mr. Hall," I said calmly, showing him the door. It was incredible the restraint I had, given that I was so close to kicking him out the fucking door myself. "I was pretty clear that you'll get no help from me on this matter. If there's anything else you'd like to discuss, I'm willing to listen; if not, feel free to show yourself out or I can have security do it. I have clients to meet."

He hesitated for a moment, like he actually wanted to say something else. Then he took a step towards the door before stopping and turning back to me abruptly. "Fuck you, Edward," he spewed venomously. "Fuck you, and your mother and your entire family!"

Out the door he flew, and the only thought on my mind was that I was so fucking done with pointless drama.

_~~ 0 ~~_

Not even twenty minutes after Mr. Friedrich fucking Hall flew out of my office, I was entering the condo. Too distracted to get any work done, I'd opted to return home rather than stick around at the office and try to force productivity on myself. Isabella was just coming out of the bathroom, and she stopped short in her tracks when she saw me. Clearly, she hadn't expected me back so soon.

"How did it go?" she inquired quickly, making her way over to me. "What did he want?"

"He wanted me to drop the accusations against him in return of him overlooking Mother's little escapade with James' family money."

"And?" She frowned. "Did you agree to do it?"

"I was tempted, but no, I didn't," I answered sincerely. "She's on her own. I'm done with her."

"I would be lying if I said I wasn't relieved." She sighed, reaching over to take the jacket I'd shrugged off. "I know she's probably going to go to jail when they catch up with her, but... I can't bring myself to care anymore." She paused, staring down at her hands. "Does that make me a bad person?"

I placed a finger under her chin, so I could look her in the eye. "Of course it doesn't. _She_'s the bad person, not you, Bella. Honestly, I'm amazed you even put up with so much shit from her. You're stronger than I could ever be."

She shook her head lightly. "That's not true."

"It is," I insisted, before letting go of her chin and starting to take off my tie. "Anyway, please let's talk about something else. These past few days we've had enough drama to last us a lifetime. How's Matthew?"

"I nursed him about ten minutes ago, and now he's asleep again."

"I'll go see him for a little bit," I said, starting to head in that direction.

"Oh, Edward?" Isabella called, causing me to turn back to her.

"Yeah?"

"Alice called. She invited us to dinner next Saturday."

My eyebrows rose in surprise. "Just us?"

"Uh, no, she said something about having everyone over for her homemade ravioli. I guess she's trying to keep the family close."

"Alright, sounds good," I agreed, looking Isabella over. Lack of proper sleep seemed to be taking its toll on her. "Are you sure you're up for it?"

"I'm not an invalid, Edward," she said petulantly. "Besides, I actually look forward to getting out of the house for a little while."

"I didn't say you were," I tried to appease her. "Who's going to stay with Matthew?"

She sighed, rubbing the pads of her finger against her temples. "Kate, I guess. I'll give her a call later."

"Are you okay?" I asked softly, taking a step towards her.

"What do you mean?"

"You look different than you did this morning. More... fatigued."

She shrugged, trying to look unaffected and failing terribly. "I don't know, I've been trying to nap while Matthew did, and couldn't. I kept thinking about you and that Mr. Hall. My mind was full of stupid scenarios, and I just couldn't close an eye." As she spoke, she started fidgeting, and I saw that her hands were trembling. "I'm so tired and grumpy and... so not myself."

"Go lie down," I coaxed gently, coming to stand in front of her. I cupped her cheek and placed a brief kiss on her forehead. "I'll be here if Matthew wakes up."

"No, I want to stay with you." Her voice turned shaky as she wrapped her arms around me, resting her head on my chest.

I held her to me, sensing a meltdown approaching. "Baby, you need to rest."

"No," she whispered, sniffling all of a sudden.

"Are you crying?" I pulled back to get a better look at her.

She swallowed thickly, a couple of fat tears sliding down her cheeks. "I'm sorry."

I sighed, shaking my head. "What are you sorry for?"

"I just... I don't know what's wrong with me." She buried her face into my shirt, her hold on me tightening. "I don't want to cry, but I…."

"It's alright, sweetheart," I reassured her, stroking her hair in what I hoped to be a soothing manner. "It's probably your changing hormones kicking in. There's no reason to be ashamed for feeling the way you do. We've both been under a lot of stress lately. It's been overwhelming and tiresome. Hell, even _I_ could use a break, and I didn't have to go through nine months of pregnancy and five hours of labor. So, how about we just take it slow for a while, mmm?"

"Yeah," she whispered though sniffles. "I'd like that."

"Do you want me to lie down with you?" I offered, craning my neck so I could look at her.

"Mmhmm." She nodded, making no move to pull away from me.

After a minute, I took her hand, guiding her towards our bedroom. I lay down with her, not before making sure Matthew was still sound asleep.

"Come here," I beckoned, reaching for her thinning frame. I pressed my front to hers then pulled the comforter over us. Isabella sighed, tangling her legs with mine and tucking her head under my chin. "Better?" I murmured, running my palm up and down her back.

"Yes, much," she replied softly. "I'm glad you came home so quickly."

"Me too, baby. I'd much rather spend time with you and Matthew than wasting it by being counterproductive at the office."

"How very thoughtful of you," she said ironically, a hint of amusement coloring her voice.

I chuckled, squeezing her to me. "You know me; I'm the nicest, most thoughtful guy on earth."

"You can be. Sometimes."

"Enough talking. You need sleep."

As if on cue, she let out a big yawn. "Yeah... sleep."

_~~ 0 ~~_

I was jolted awake by my son's urgent cries. Beside me, Isabella stirred as well, her body's movements sluggish as she started to get up.

"I'll go," I murmured, gently pulling her back down.

She nodded, not even attempting to put up a fight like she sometimes did, and I realized precisely how exhausted she really was today. "Milk's in the fridge," she mumbled, burying her face into her pillow. "Top shelf."

"I know." I kissed her hair. "Go back to sleep."

Matthew was now crying like he was hell-bent on waking up the entire building, and I walked over to his crib, bending down to pick him up.

"Hey, buddy," I said softly, holding him to me and peppering light kisses on his cheek. "Are you hungry?"

He began settling down as soon as he was in my arms, and I smiled at him proudly. I felt as if he already recognized me as a father figure, and that was more than enough to make my heart explode with joy. He was what mattered most; not my mother, not Mr. Hall, not even the rest of the family. My son and my wife were the reasons I strove for a better, brighter future. Between the two of them, I felt this sense of completeness that hadn't been in my life before, and I hoped to be a good husband and father for both their sakes. They deserved nothing less.

I carried Matthew into the kitchen, going straight for the fridge. Opening it, I took out his bottle.

"Look what I have," I said, showing him the bottle, before placing it in the electric warmer.

He gurgled something at me, and I chuckled, amused that I'd actually gotten a response out of him. As we waited for the bottle to warm up, he started to get restless again. I walked around with him in my arms, hoping to distract him with different objects around the kitchen. It worked for a few minutes, and when the light on the warmer began to flash, I was relieved. Removing the bottle, I tested the temperature by squirting a few drops of milk onto my inner wrist. Satisfied with the warmth, I settled into a chair and gave Matthew the bottle, which he accepted eagerly.

As he fed, he kept his eyes opened, which I noticed was something he did quite frequently. He looked at me, almost the entire time, like he was studying me. His eyes were still that odd shade of blue newborn babies had, but his hair looked a little bit darker than last week. He was a really cute baby, and I wasn't saying that because he was mine. Well, maybe I was being _slightly_ subjective, but he was a cute baby nonetheless.

"I love you," I whispered, stroking his head. "Never forget it."

The only response I got was the sound of his enthusiastic suckles.

_~~ 0 ~~_

Jasper's apartment looked positively different. Signs of Alice's cohabitation were everywhere, from the deep purple couch in the living room, to the new appliances in the kitchen and the scented candles in the bathroom. It was quite funny, witnessing his status transition from boyfriend to future husband. But in all honesty, I was really happy for him. I knew how much he loved Alice, and that there was no other woman with whom he'd rather spend the rest of his life.

We were all gathered around the dining table; all but one. My father had to leave town on business, so he had been unable to attend this particular family dinner.

Isabella sat at my right, and I stole a glance at her, wanting to make sure she was okay. She'd felt a little down the past week, but seemed better now. Sensing I was observing her, she turned her head towards me and smiled reassuringly. I took hold of her hand, bringing her knuckles to my lips before linking our fingers in my lap.

"So, guys, Jasper and I have news," Alice announced, skipping to the subject.

"Uh-oh," Emmett said playfully, tossing his napkin onto the table.

"Shut up, Em," Jasper mumbled, shooting him a dirty look. I was certain Emmett was the only person I knew who had the innate ability to piss off even a saint.

"I think I know what's coming," he taunted, and Jasper chose to ignore him, allowing his fiancée to make the announcement.

Alice beamed, placing her hand atop Jasper's on the table. "We're having a baby."

"I knew it!" Emmett boomed with a triumphant chuckle. He was in high spirits today.

"Congrats!" Loud cheers erupted around the table; my own voice matching the others in almost perfect unison.

I glanced over to Jasper, and could tell by the look on his face that he was really excited about the prospect of becoming a father. Also, the timing seemed perfect; he was pushing thirty and his wedding was just around the corner, so there really was nothing holding them back from having their own family. Besides that, my brother was the kindest person I knew, and I was willing to bet he was going to make an amazing parent.

As for Alice, she was in seventh heaven.

"Thank you! Oh, my God, I cannot wait. We're so happy and excited," she exclaimed breathlessly, glancing at Isabella. "I think I need to spend more time with Matthew to prepare."

"You're welcome to our home anytime, Alice," Isabella replied gently, and the way she said _our home _pleased me to no end.

"How far along are you?" I inquired in return.

Alice sighed contently, rubbing her palm over her still flat stomach. "Barely over ten weeks."

"When's the wedding?" Rosalie wanted to know. She'd been quiet up until that moment, seeming lost in thought for some reason.

"Well, Jas and I talked about it, and we've decided to stick to the original plan and have a June wedding."

"That's great." She smiled sincerely. "Still thinking about a beach wedding?"

"Yeah, I already spoke with a childhood friend of mine. Her parents have this beautiful home in Maine, and they're willing to let us have the wedding there."

"Doesn't your father still have that beach house in Florida?" Emmett gave her a questioning look.

"No, he sold it out a couple of years ago. No one used it much anymore," Alice explained with a dismissive wave.

"You know, Dad used to have that flat in Miami. I wonder what happened to it," I mused, glancing from Emmett to Jasper.

Jasper shrugged. "I have no idea. We should ask him sometime."

I turned to Isabella, leaning over to whisper against her ear. "When we were younger, our parents owned three houses and two flats."

"Really?" Her eyebrows rose in surprise.

I chuckled. "Yeah, it was ridiculous. They had the mansion in Chicago, a house in Ontario, and another one in Vegas. Then they had the flat in Miami and one in Paris."

"That's... crazy," she murmured in response. I dared to say she looked quite appalled. "No one should own that many homes when there are people in the world who can't even afford one."

"I know," I agreed more seriously. "It was mostly my mother's doing."

"What happened to them?"

"Dad realized things were getting out of hand and decided to sell them one by one. A few years ago, he still had the flat in Miami, but I don't think anyone's used it for a really long time."

"I'm going to ask him about it," Emmett cut in, looking at me then at his wife. "How about a trip to Miami, Rosie?"

She nodded. "Sounds good."

"What about me?" Jess whined from beside her.

"You're staying home," Emmett teased.

"What? You can't be serious, Dad."

He laughed at her horrified expression. "I'm not; calm down. You can bring your friend Emily if you want."

"Yes!" She fist-pumped the air triumphantly. "It's going to be so much fun."

"I need to get some air," Isabella said from beside me, and I stared at her questioningly, taken aback by the sudden mood change.

Alice gave her a worried look. "Are you okay, Bella?"

She smiled tightly. "Yeah, I'm fine; it's simply a headache."

"I'm coming with you," I offered, helping her to her feet. "We'll be right back."

Once we were standing on the balcony, Isabella wrapped her arms around me, placing her head on my chest.

"I'm fine," she said before I even had a chance to ask. "I just feel tired."

I kissed the top of her head, inhaling a dose of her floral perfume in the process. "Do you want to go home now?"

She shook her head, letting her eyes fall closed. "Let's stay a little longer. We're celebrating."

"Okay," I murmured into her hair. "Too bad Dad isn't here with us. He's going to be so happy for them when he finds out."

"I wonder how Matthew's doing."

"I'm sure Kate's taking care of him properly."

"Yeah, I wasn't worried about that." She chuckled. "I just… I miss him. Which is ridiculous, I know; I've left his side barely an hour ago."

"I know what you mean," I whispered lovingly, stroking her back. "I miss both of you every single time I leave home."

We were quiet for the next few minutes, just holding one another and basking in each other's soothing nearness. I loved being like this with her. I loved kissing her, and holding her close, and sharing my most intimate thoughts with her. In fact, I simply loved _her_.

"You know," she broke the silence sometime later. "I feel like things are finally starting to settle for us. Don't you?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, baby, but I certainly hope they are. We deserve a little peace and quiet."

The chilly winter air made my skin break out in goose bumps, and I pulled my wife closer. Her body heat enticed me, momentarily derailing my train of thought to a different path. Sleeping next to her every night, and not being able to touch her the way I wanted, was proving harder than ever. We hadn't had actual sex in about three months, give or take a few days, and there were times when I felt I was going crazy with desire for her. Five more weeks until the good doctor gave us the green light; not that I was counting. Ultimately, I liked to think that I was a patient man. Well, most of the time.

"Yes, we do." Isabella finally opened her eyes, smiling up at me. "I love you, Edward, and I think we're going to be just fine."

* * *

><p><strong>AN Thoughts? **

**As always, thanks for reading! Yours...**

**~Andreea~**


	39. Epilogue

**A/N See you at the bottom…**

* * *

><p><strong>Epilogue<br>**

**Isabella POV**

* * *

><p><em>~ June 15th, 2013 ~<em>

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

_~~ 0 ~~_

"Have you guys seen Edward?" I asked, walking towards Emmett and Carlisle who were standing in front of the unlit fireplace with a drink in their hands. Both were neatly dressed in their light-colored suits, and I frowned, thinking about my husband wandering around in his khakis and still sporting a stubble.

"Uh, yeah, he said he was taking Mattie for a stroll on the beach," Emmett replied, oblivious to my foul mood.

"Perfect timing," I muttered with an annoyed sigh. "He needs to get dressed; the ceremony starts in half an hour."

Carlisle chuckled softly. "Men." His eyes wandered over me, taking in my five-inch heels and pastel chiffon dress. "By the way, my dear, you look ravishing."

"Thank you." I smiled, smoothing a hand over my waist and allowing myself to bask in the compliment for a brief moment. "I'm going to look for my husband and son."

I turned around, heading towards the French doors with determined, large steps. For the millionth time that day, I noticed fresh faces occupying the two leather couches, and once again marveled at the sheer size of the house. Actually, the place wasn't so much a house as it was a humongous estate in the wealthy town of Cape Elizabeth, because apparently the Joneses didn't do anything short of extraordinary. In the two days we'd been there I'd met more people than in my entire twenty-four years.

Just as I was stepping on the back porch, I ran into Edward.

"Look who's here," he told Matthew, tickling his side. "Hi, Mommy. Were you looking for us?"

"Actually, yes, I was." I crossed my arms over my chest. "Where have you been? Both of you need to change immediately."

"I was just showing Matthew the seagulls. There's plenty of time," he said, placing his hand on the small of my back and pulling me to him. "I'm loving this matron of honor look on you."

"Thank you, but you also need to shave. Alice is going to have a fit if she sees you like this so close to the beginning of the ceremony."

Edward sighed, letting go of me. "I'll be ready in no time."

"Well, you know how fussy your son gets when I have to change his clothes. He doesn't like it, and he'll start crying like he usually does. I can't exactly rush him into his tux."

"I'll do it." He tried to placate me.

"No, you go see to yourself. I'll take Matthew," I said, reaching for him.

Edward passed him over to me gently. "You're awfully cranky today," he observed, the tone of his voice matching his mildly exasperated expression.

I looked up at him in surprise. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to come off like that. Alice is a nervous wreck, and I guess I picked it off from her."

He shook his head, placing a kiss on my forehead. "Try to relax, baby. Do I need to remind you, you already got married once?"

"Yeah, about that… I think I can do better." I smirked teasingly. "I mean, almost everyone gets married once. One time is too common. I can do it three or four times. Who knows, maybe I'll even meet my next husband today."

Edward's face fell instantly. "I don't appreciate the humor."

I grinned, pulling Matthew's little greedy fingers away from my chandelier earrings. "I think I'm pretty funny."

"You think wrong," Edward replied dryly, giving me a dark scowl. He started to head inside, not before adding over his shoulder, "Oh, and I love you too, Mrs. Cullen."

"Love you back, Daddy," I called, silly grin still in place. A familiar odor reached my nose, and I turned to my son, making a face. "Uh-oh. Somebody is in desperate need of a diaper change."

Matthew stared at me intently before suddenly bursting into a fit of giggles. At almost six months, he was incredibly perceptive of the things happening around him. Many times, I got the feeling he actually understood what I was saying to him.

"Yeah." I chuckled, kissing his cheek. "You know what you did."

As I stepped back into the large sitting room, I was tackled by a frantic-looking Rosalie. "Oh, thank God I found you. I need your help."

"Yeah, sure," I replied, no doubt looking as surprised as I felt. "What can I do?"

"My curls fell loose at the back." She turned around to prove her point. "Can you fix them for me?"

"Uh..." I glanced at my son still wearing his romper suit, trying to come up with a quick way to get him dressed as well as fix Rosalie's hair.

"I'll take Mattie," Emmett offered, seeing my torn expression. "Come to Uncle Emmett, you little munchkin." He held Matthew up, blowing raspberries on his belly.

Matthew shrieked in delight, slapping his hands against Uncle Emmett's freshly shaven cheeks.

"He needs a fresh diaper," I explained, placing my hand on Emmett's shoulder to get his attention. "I laid out his clothes on the bed in our room."

"Got it," Emmett replied, whisking my son away, as Rosalie and I made our way towards their bedroom. As we entered the room, Jess came out of the adjoining bathroom, wearing a soft pink knee-length dress.

"Mom, my zipper's stuck." Her brows formed a deep frown as she struggled with said zipper.

Rosalie pushed her daughter's hair to the side as she took over the task of getting the zipper to work. After a minute, she straightened up triumphantly. "Here you go."

Jess let out a relieved sigh. "Thanks."

"You look lovely," I remarked, giving my niece a conspiratorial wink.

She grinned, twirling around for effect. "Thanks. You do too, Auntie B."

Rosalie began rummaging through her mostly unpacked luggage for the curling iron. "I can't believe Paul did this to my hair," she muttered under her breath, sporting the mother of all frowns.

"_Paul_ was busy with Alice; he wasn't supposed to be doing anyone else's hair," I said pointedly, grabbing a chair and moving it in front of a large oval mirror. "You practically had to beg him to spend fifteen minutes on you."

"I know, I know." She sighed. "It's just that I can't do my own hair for the life of me. I always have someone do it for me for special occasions."

"You should've brought your hairstylist with you," I teased.

She rolled her eyes at me, handing me the curling iron as she sat down on the chair I'd set out for her. "I'm not _that_ vain."

"Yes, you are," I retorted, keeping my tone light. She knew I was making fun at her expense, which still felt a little weird, given our history.

"Is this dress showing too much cleavage?" She swiftly changed the subject, pulling at the heart-shaped top, as I began working on her hair.

Her dress was similar to mine, only hers had a breath-impairing corset to emphasize her waist. In true Alice fashion, our bride had decided she was going to have two matrons of honor instead of just one, so basically Rosalie and I were supposed to cooperate and be nice to each other. Surprisingly enough, it hadn't been that hard. Rosalie had behaved most of the time, seeming more focused on our joint tasks rather than her past animosity towards me, and I suspected Alice knew exactly what she was doing when deciding to pair the two of us together.

"No, you're good."

"Alright." She seemed satisfied with my answer as she watched Jessica strap on her silver sandals. "I wonder how Alice is doing."

"She was fine when I left her side fifteen minutes ago; nervous but fine."

Her blue eyes met mine in the mirror. "You look really nice, by the way. You also seem better."

I smiled softly. "Thanks. I am. Mrs. Coleman is such a darling. She helps so much with Matthew, and I get to nap a bit during the day and study for exams. I even wrote most of my thesis in less than a month."

"That's good. I never had any help with Jess, but I was a stay-at-home-mom so that was pretty much my job. You, on the other hand, are striving for a successful career someday." There seemed to be a bit of envy in her voice, but it didn't sound malevolent. On the contrary; I dared say her envy was rather admiring.

"Yeah." I sighed, recalling last night's conversation with the imposing Mr. Jones, the owner of the estate. The future definitely looked bright for my career.

There was a knock on the door, and Edward poked his head inside. "May I come in?"

"Yes, Bella was just fixing my mess of a hair," Rosalie answered, smiling at her brother-in-law.

"How do I look?" he inquired, stepping inside.

I drank him in, my eyes following the hard lines of his toned body. The beige three-piece fit him like a glove, and I had to admit he looked quite remarkable. "Dashing, of course."

"The weird lady with red hair said all of the guests have arrived, and that it's time for everyone to take their seats."

I had to laugh at his childish description of Alice's wedding planner. "Her name is Helen and she's not weird, she's just... extravagant."

"Honestly, I couldn't care less what her name is, and she_ is_ weird." He snickered, looking around as if searching for something with his eyes. "Where's Matthew?"

"He's with Emmett."

"Okay." His eyes met Jessica, and he gave her two thumbs up. "Are you done here? We really need to go down."

"Yeah, just a couple more minutes," I answered, focusing on the strand of hair I was recurling.

"I'm ready," Jess announced, starting for the door.

"I'm coming with you." Edward followed after her, stopping only to point to his watch. "Tick tock, ladies."

When the last strand of blond hair was in place, I put the curling iron down before quickly unplugging it. "Done."

"I owe you one," Rosalie said, grabbing her lipstick for a last minute retouch. "Okay, now I'm good. Let's go."

I pushed back the urge to roll my eyes at her. Her gratitude was_ so_ touching.

As Rosalie and I made our way across the beach, I couldn't help feeling amazed at the sight of the breathtaking setting. The first thing that caught my eye was the huge wedding arch, decorated with large bouquets of blooming pink and white roses and crystal strings, creating a striking backdrop. Then there were the chairs, dressed up in soft, flowy fabric, and the tall candle stands adorned with beautiful climbing flowers. A path of bi-colored petals lost its way through the wet sand, making the seamless connection from the beach to the wooden deck we'd just descended.

"Wow. Alice definitely went all out," I noted, trying to spot my husband in the sea of people occupying almost two hundred seats.

"It looks beautiful," Rosalie agreed, waving and smiling at a white-haired woman.

My eyes finally found Edward standing beside the improvised aisle and talking to a nervous-looking Jasper. Emmett appeared next to them, his arms empty, and I began searching the crowd again, this time for my son. A brief shriek of delight brought my attention to the left throng of seats, right up front, where I found Carlisle making silly faces at his grandson. I let out a breath of relief; one I hadn't even realized I was holding.

"Isabella, dear." Helen materialized beside me out of thin air. She was wearing an oriental jacquard print dress, paired with at least a dozen jade bracelets; her bright red hair pinned up in a French twist. "Can you please fetch your husband and brother-in-law so we can begin the ceremony?"

"Sure." I gave her a polite smile, doing my best to refrain from gawking at her. She was a beautiful woman, but her choice of outfits wasn't doing much to flatter her slim, well-kept figure.

Helen looked positively annoyed. "I don't even know what the two of you are doing here instead of inside with the bride. Let's go, Rosalie."

Rosalie gave Helen a dirty look for using a snide tone with her, but followed behind her nonetheless. As for me, I turned around and marched my way towards the aisle, stopping in front of the amused men. Apparently, Emmett was telling a joke.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but we need to head back inside. Alice is waiting for us."

"You look tense, Honeybee." Emmett grinned, wrapping a long arm around my waist. He kissed my cheek, and I slapped his shoulder playfully.

"You obnoxious ass." I laughed, stealing a glance at Edward who was watching us with a hint of a smile on his lips. "Beat it."

_Just beat it, beat it, beat it, beat it  
>No one wants to be defeated<br>Showin' how funky and strong is your fight  
>It doesn't matter who's wrong or right...<em>

Emmett began to sing as he let go of me and walked towards the house, causing all of us to laugh at his silliness. Edward took hold of my hand, and we both followed close behind. Once inside, we were met with a gorgeous vision of our bride dressed in a vintage inspired wedding gown, complete with intricate beading and an embellished headband. Beside her, her father couldn't have looked any prouder.

"Whoa!" Emmett exclaimed, taking in his future sister-in-law. "Who is this splendid woman?"

"Shut up." Alice chuckled, sucking in a deep breath. If she were clutching her freesia bouquet any tighter, she was liable to squish it.

"Oh good, everyone's here," Helen observed with satisfaction. "You already know what to do, so let's proceed."

Moments later, as Edward and I trailed behind Emmett and Rosalie on our way to the aisle, I felt this sudden sense of complete tranquility wash over me. For the next half an hour, while the ceremony carried on, I was lost to my own thoughts.

I thought of my life up until that point, and realized that for the first time in months, maybe even years, I was truly, one hundred percent happy. And I had so many reasons to feel that way. Matthew was growing up beautifully, my postpartum depression was mostly gone, and we had finally moved into our new house. Edward was proving to be an amazing father, nurturing our son with all the love and protectiveness he was capable of. Furthermore, he continued to be the man I'd fallen in love with, both flawed and perfect; cold and passionate; tough and tender; grave and carefree; dark and full of blinding light. My husband was a man of extremes, and I was his balance; his own personal pair of scales that brought him the equilibrium he so much needed. In return, he was my driving force that propelled me forward in life, sometimes at breakneck speed. And I was fine with that. I could handle it. I could handle him, and he could handle me. Together we were complementary.

My son's gurgles brought my attention to him, and I felt a genuine smile stretch my lips. He sat on his grandfather's lap, concentrating hard on pulling at the buttons on his vest. Carlisle alternated between watching the service and Matthew, from time to time gently sweeping his hand over his grandson's hair. Beside him, Karen Young sat looking beautiful in a red gown. I didn't know her too well, but from what Edward had told me, she was a much more decent person than Esme had ever been. She seemed nice; always regarding Carlisle with genuine affection, and I got the feeling they were really hitting it off. Everyone approved of her, even Rosalie in her own distant way, and I hoped Carlisle was going to find the peace and happiness he deserved.

As for the evil witch herself, no one had heard anything about her since the incident with James' family money. The police didn't have any leads on where she might be, so for now she could consider herself safe. I, for one, seriously doubted she was even in the country anymore. I could almost envision her on some far away beach, sipping mimosas and lavishing in the sun as she patted herself on the back for her conniving skills. But on the good side, Edward and everyone else seemed to have gotten over her and her bad influence. Even Carlisle seemed to accept the way things had turned out. If_ I_ had a say in how the future was going to unfold, I would leave Esme where she was now, at a far distance and into oblivion; never to enter our lives again. But anything could happen at any given moment, so for the time being I was going to enjoy the tranquility while it lasted.

With Esme gone, James dead, and his parents moving off to Europe, I had three very good reasons to feel safe again.

In the back of the ceremonial party, Aaron sat quietly, his vigilant eyes surveying the gathering of so many unknown faces. Edward and I had gotten inevitably attached to him, but somehow I got the pleasant feeling that soon his services weren't going to be needed anymore.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the priest proclaimed, pulling me out of my reverie. "You may kiss the bride."

Drifting past the tender embrace of the newlyweds, my eyes met those of my husband, and I realized he'd been watching me the entire time. I smiled, and he answered by mouthing "I love you," and cheekily drawing a small heart across his chest.

Honestly, he could be so sweet at times.

_~~ 0 ~~_

"Let's go for a walk," Edward suggested sometime later, gently caressing my hand as if he could sense there was something I wanted to tell him. The party was in full swing so it seemed like a good time to take a breather.

I gave him my other hand, and he helped me up. We passed the dancing couples, heading towards the far end of the marquee. Hand in hand, we strolled across the beach, neither of us breaking the silence for a long time.

When the music could barely be heard anymore, I stopped abruptly, turning around to face him. "Are you happy?"

"What an odd question," he remarked, his brow furrowing. "Of course I'm happy. Aren't you?"

"I am." I smiled reassuringly. "Very happy actually. I have some good news."

"Oh?" His expression morphed into one of slight surprise.

"Last night Mr. Jones and I crossed paths in the kitchen," I explained. "We chatted a little, and at some point he asked what I did for a living. I told him about finishing school in a couple of weeks and my intention to start looking for a job as a journalist."

"He works for the _Tribune_," Edward said slowly, his tone of voice telling me he already knew where I was going with this.

"Exactly. He immediately wanted to set an interview for next week."

"And?" he pressed.

"And I said yes, of course," I breathed, barely containing my excitement. "I couldn't pass up the opportunity. He called his assistant, and I'm scheduled for an interview Monday morning at nine."

"That's great, baby." He immediately enveloped me into his warm embrace. "I'm so happy for you. I know how much you want this."

"Thank you, honey," I whispered, burying my nose into his neck. "I'm so thrilled."

"He's going to hire you," Edward stated, pulling back to look at me. "I know it."

I grinned, nodding. "More than likely, yeah. We really had a great chat."

He chuckled, reaching up to caress my face. "Good thing we have Mrs. Coleman now."

Mrs. Coleman was the best. She came with great recommendations that she had so far lived up to and even exceeded. She was kind, generous, with a heart of gold, and most importantly she'd come to love Matthew like her own. Her four children and seven grandchildren were living testimony to her vocation as a nanny. Edward and I were simply smitten with her.

"Mr. Jones knows I have Matthew, and he said the hours are pretty flexible," I said, placing my hand over Edward's still resting on my cheek. I wanted the job, but I also wanted to be able to spend quality time with my son, especially since he was still so little. "Besides, the job won't be available for another two months or so. The woman I'm going to replace is moving to New York in September."

"That's good." Edward nodded his approval. "I'm very proud of you."

I sighed contently, grateful for his positive reaction. Deep down, I'd known from the very beginning he was going to be supportive, but hearing him express it meant the world to me. "As I am of you. You're the best husband any woman could ask for. I mean it. I really do."

He laughed, his arms circling my waist. "Well, if you put it that way..." Leaning down, he kissed me deeply, and for a little while I let myself get lost in him.

"Mr. Cullen..." I murmured, eventually breaking the kiss.

"Yes, Mrs. Cullen?" he whispered, his eyes still half closed.

"I love you," I said, mustering as much emotion as I could into that one short sentence. I told him I loved him pretty much every day, but this time I wanted him to know just how much.

He looked at me then, his expression conveying the same burning passion I felt inside. "The feeling is so very mutual, Isabella."

* * *

><p><strong>AN So what happened to Esme? I've decided to leave an open ending, because I just couldn't help it! lol As you've probably learned by now, I'm not a fan of over-the-top endings that offer ALL the answers on a golden platter. I'm sorry if you're disappointed, but this will make you come up with all sorts of scenarios of your own, and I think that's much more fun than me revealing where she truly is. Will she ever get caught? Who knows... Oh yeah, I do... Oh wait, I don't... not really... (confused? me too)**

**I **_**might**_** write a future-take if I get the inspiration or the mood strikes.**

**As some of you already know, the first chapter of my new story **_**Balançoire**_** has been up for a few weeks. I'll resume updating in a little while.**

**I want to thank Mid Night-Cougar and Jen McNamara for being truly amazing friends and continuously supporting this story and my writing. I love them both. I want to thank Stephenie Meyer for creating these characters and the fandom for existing. And last but not least, I want to thank all of you. My wonderful readers are the sole reason I continue writing, and your reviews mean everything to me. I really am sorry for not having the time to reply to them anymore, but rest assured I've read every single one of them.**

**See you soon…**

**~ Andreea ~**


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